


Blue Lotus

by Lasae_abyss



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: Ancient Egypt, Blindshipping, Dubious Consent, Gemshipping, M/M, Magic, Plotty, Yaoi, atem is a badass king, atemu - Freeform, dangerously flirty atem, revertshipping, scribes, sennen items, yugi's not a slave (for once)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-12
Updated: 2014-11-23
Packaged: 2017-11-25 05:47:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 43
Words: 79,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/635734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lasae_abyss/pseuds/Lasae_abyss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“We will take you to the palace,” said the soldier grimly. “The king will decide what is to be done with you.”</p><p>Yugi was hauled to his feet, his hands bound, and was dragged, unresisting, through the gates of the Southern City.</p><p>~</p><p>Thrown suddenly into the Pharaoh's service as his personal Sandal-Bearer, Yugi must discover which persona is the real Atem and which are the masks - the god, the king, or the man.</p><p>[Historical Notes added]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

  


Part I: Akhet, The Flood 

_The King and the Scribe_

x

__

{See, I have placed you on the path of God. The fate of a man is on his shoulders on the day he is born. He comes to the judgement hall and the court of magistrates which the people have made.}

Each word was an effort to mark onto the tablet. After so many lines, cramps were starting to build in his hand and legs, and finally the scribe paused in his work. Stretching, he put a hand to his back and grimaced as the muscles throbbed. Yugi read over the hieratic instruction that he had copied out, and was pleased to see that he hadn’t made a single mistake. “Thank Djeheuty,” he muttered, scrubbing at his sore eyes. Hesi-re shouldn’t be anything but satisfied with it - although Yugi himself had never seen the man anything _like_ satisfied before.

Yugi picked up his board and palette and trudged through the cool stone halls of the house of life. The priests would be conducting their obscure evening rituals in the temple, providing libations for the god, the goddess and their son. Absently Yugi wondered if Hor had persuaded the _hem_ priests to let him sit in on the ritual. The current lector priest was far past his usefulness, and Hor was eager to take his place. A smile tugged at Yugi’s lips as he thought of his friend. The boy had been responsible for a few pretty bad jokes, and the priests were still smarting from that time he’d put ducks in the Sacred Lake, but he had a good heart.

As the shadows darkened, Yugi quickened his steps. Hesi-re’s room was, thankfully, empty, so he left his completed transcription there and walked out of the building. In the dim light cast by the Aten, he could just make out the small step pyramid across the river. As he got further from the temple grounds, the noise level rose and more people trod the sandy ground with him. Yugi nodded at one or two he recognised. A few had already started drinking and were carousing in the street. Yugi snorted at them. _Any excuse_ , he thought, shaking his head. _Wep-renpet_ was still many days away, but the harvest here was well under way, and the people of Wetjeset-Hor, at least, were ready to ring in the flood.

Near the stalls on the other side of the road, two priests were standing, squabbling over something with a merchant. Yugi recognised them as the new _wab_ priests that had recently transferred from Waset. Coming from the centre of Kemet to its second _sepat_ had obviously been a bit of a shock for them, because they had wasted no time in making every student’s life a living nightmare. “Set and all devils,” Yugi hissed and tried to duck into an alley. With little effect, as one of the priests looked up then and met his eyes. The man immediately leapt across the road and dragged him upright.

“Well, Yugi, we were just talking about you,“ said Heqaa-en-kyw. Yugi very much doubted it.

The priest was joined by his shorter, very much fatter, friend. Kaa-hedj looked him over, sneering. “Indeed. We were just wondering how long it would be before your fleas infected the temple.” The man chortled, smoothing his white _shenti_ over his substantial belly. Against the sandy buildings his appearance echoed the white bull of his namesake.

Yugi wriggled out of Heqaa-en-kyw’s hold. “I see the temple is still treating you well,” he replied, shooting a glance at the priest’s belly. The man’s eyes narrowed. “If only we could all eat so heartily.”

Kaa-hedj slapped him across the cheek. “The scribes should have beaten that attitude out of you.” Yugi glared at him but bit his tongue on a reply. That seemed to satisfy them, and they stood back. “Your little lector friend is being quite the nuisance. It appears the ritual texts went missing today.” Both men watched him carefully and Yugi raised an eyebrow.

“Really?” he said, concentrating on brushing sand off his shoulder. _Oh Hor, what have you done now?_

“Mmm.” Heqaa-en-kyw crossed his arms. He was less easily angered than his colleague, but twice as shrewd. “When the person responsible is found, he will sorely regret angering the gods.” Yugi barely refrained from rolling his eyes. He was positive the gods had more important things to worry about than the absence of a text or two. Still...

“Then I hope he is found soon.” Yugi started backing away. “I expect I will see you at the temple…” He turned to go, but Heqaa grabbed his arm and tugged him back.

“One more thing, Yugi.” His eyes glinted as he spoke. Yugi shivered, the hairs on the back of his neck rising, and he knew that whatever the man was going to say would not bode well for him. “Hesi-re is selecting a student to be placed at the House of Life in Waset. Only the best, of course.”

“Eh?” Kaa-hedj actually looked confused. “What are y-”

“Perhaps to serve in the court of _nsw bity_ Akhenre himself,” cut in Heqaa, glancing meaningfully at the other man.

“Right! Of course - and only the best could serve in the palace,” said Kaa-hedj, apparently remembering. 

Yugi frowned. _Do they think I was born yesterday?_ “I will think on it,” he muttered, twisting away. Walking away quickly, he saw the two men conferring and casting glances his way. _What were they talking about?_ he thought, bemused. The conversation had put him on edge, and only when he was out of their line of sight did he relax.

Eventually his path led him to a small, mud brick house close to the centre of the city. He pushed aside the palm leaf door and stepped gratefully into the semi-darkness. The room was clean and tidy, but empty, so he padded across the reed mat to the other doorway. Outside, his mother was bent over their little clay oven. She smiled when she saw him. “Yugi.” She wiped her brow. “You are just in time.”

“Perfect,” he said, perking up at the thought of food. He helped her take out the fish that was crisping in the oven, and they ate on the roof, under the stars. Around them, the hustle and bustle of the city was still loud and their neighbours were close, but Yugi felt secluded.

“How did your studies go?” asked Nedjemet.

Yugi shrugged. “Good. I finished Dua-Khety’s instruction, but Hesi-re had already left by the time I was done. I think that Hor has stolen some of the ritual texts, though,” he said. His mother shook her head, laughing.

“That one was never meant to be a priest. He gets into far too much trouble.” She pushed a lock of dark hair out of her eyes and frowned. “He didn’t get you involved again, did he?”

“No.” Yugi smiled. “I hope he knows better than that after the last time I got punished for him. I knew nothing about it until some of the priests told me.” As soon as he had said that, he wished he could take it back. Nedjemet, on the other hand, brightened immediately.

“The priests are talking to you? That is good news, I thought they would never speak to you as a student. This means the temple might take you on as a scribe!” Yugi bit his lip and didn’t answer. His mother was thrilled for him; there seemed little point in telling her the truth. Nedjemet’s brown eyes flickered with sadness. “Your father would have been proud.”

“I - I’m glad,” answered Yugi around a lump in his throat.

“Today I heard that the division he was stationed with will be returning for the new year,” she added as she collected their plates. “Didn’t your friend serve with that division too?”

“Um, yes, I think so,” Yugi said with faint nostalgia. “I haven’t heard from Jou since father died, but I think he is a soldier there. Are they still stationed in the south?”

Nedjemet nodded. “Pessa told me they have left Kerma and are somewhere near the first cataract. You might be able to see him in soon.” She stood but Yugi remained where he was.

“I might stay up here for a little longer,” he said, indicating the roof and his view.

“All right.” she ruffled his hair as she went by. “Do not stay up too late.” Yugi smiled.

“I won’t, I promise.” When she’d gone, he lay back and stared up at the sky. If he let his eyes go unfocussed, he could almost fancy he saw the outline of the goddess Nut. Yugi ignored the sounds around him and imagined he was in a far off land - the island that housed the serpent god, perhaps - or simply on the bank of the river, away from the city and free of his tedious shackles.

__

If I could wish for one thing… his mind suggested, but Yugi knew better than to rest his hopes on wishes and dreams. Dreams would not feed him or his mother.

His father’s position as a scribe in the military had always destined Yugi for a similar fate, and his death put more pressure on Yugi to achieve good standing. _If those priests had been serious about Waset,_ thought Yugi, _it would at least mean that we wouldn’t have to worry about money._

He sighed. _Only that I would have to leave home - and mother, too. I know how much she hates the capital._ Besides, the temple would give in and take him sooner or later, and he would probably end up with Hesi-re’s job, teaching script. Yugi tugged at a lock of his wild hair. Of course, being given a position anywhere would mean shaving his head, especially at the temple. He threaded his fingers through the dark tresses, sighing. The blond strands at the front of his head were so unusual in comparison to the rest of the black locks, his mother had never been able to take a blade to them. As a scribe he’d been lucky to avoid having it shaved off until now, but he lived in dread of the time Hesi-re would demand that he conform.

The wind rustled through his hair reassuringly, and above him the stars sparkled. Absently Yugi wondered where they would lead, if they were gateways to another world. “I _am_ grateful,” he murmured to them. Life could be so much worse; he was quite lucky, really. _But it would be nice,_ Yugi thought, the cool breeze luring him towards slumber, _to have something just… for me._

__

x

By the time Khepri had pushed its burden into the sky, Yugi was already seated among the other students, waiting for Hesi-re to emerge. Not for the first time, Hor was evading his own duties and standing with them. Yugi sighed and leant back against the stone wall. “Have you managed to bribe your way into the sanctum, yet?”

The other boy snorted. “Please, Yugi, give me a little faith. I would not _bribe_ them, that’s so… predictable. Not at all like me.”

“Mm-hmm.” Hor merely grinned at him. “And why does that face not reassure me?”

“Ah, relax, you mother hen.” Hor tweaked a strand of Yugi’s blond hair affectionately. His own head was completely smooth. “The sanctum is not for lowly students like myself,” he said, as if quoting a teacher. “I will get there eventually.”

“Not after that trick with the ritual texts,” Yugi replied.

Hor straightened, looking irritable. “Who told you about that? Those damn stupid scribes…” he muttered, glaring at the other students.

“Not them.” Yugi tugged him back against the wall and spoke quietly. “Some of the priests. And I will give you three guesses which ones.”

“What, Monkey-leader and Fat-cow?” The young priest rolled his eyes. “Set-damned son of a jackal,” he growled. “I swear to Amun, those guys would be more suited in the jaws of -”

“Hor!” Yugi elbowed him sharply in the ribs. “Do not _say_ things like that!” he hissed, hastily checking to see if there were any teachers present.

“Sorry, sorry.” Hor massaged his side, throwing Yugi a reproachful look. “All right, but they were better off in the fourth _sepat_.”

“That, I do agree with.” In the morning air the bugs were already awake and committed; Yugi swatted one away with a muttered curse. Only a little light passed through the high windows in the stone, but it seemed the flies were more persistent. “Just do not get on their bad side - you need all the help you can get.”

“Hey, are you saying that I’m incompetent?” Hor teased.

“If you want to put it in those exact words…” Yugi trailed off, raising an eyebrow.

“Oi.” Hor poked him. “Not all of us can sit in the house of books every day turning that lovely milky shade,” and he eyed Yugi’s pale skin. The scribe stuck his tongue out at him.

“All right, students.” The interruption came from Hesi-re, looking as stern and unkempt as ever. His kohl-lined eyes alighted on Hor. “You, priest - out, before I punish your sloth myself.” Hastily the boy slipped out of the room, winking once at Yugi as he went. The old teacher gripped a thin lash of rope and horse hair that he was fond of using on the students. “Finish copying Dua-Khety’s Instruction,” he growled. “Each one _will_ be perfect.” The statement hung in the room like a threat, and the young scribes quivered under its weight.

Hesitating, Yugi went to pick up his palette but the movement drew Hesi-re’s attention. “Ah, Yugi.” He jerked his head to the corridor. “Come with me. Now.” Dutifully Yugi followed the man to his office. _He must have gotten my tablet_ , Yugi thought with trepidation. _Maybe I missed something?_

Once they were inside his cheerless little room, the scribe sat down and fingered a roll of papyrus, ignoring Yugi’s tablet completely. “I have received a letter from a friend in Waset, one of the scribes at the House of Life.” _A friend?_ thought Yugi before he could stop himself. “He has informed me that there is a woeful lack of good stock in the capital, and asked me to send up one of my finest.” Here the man paused and looked Yugi over, scratching at a spot on his darkly weathered face. Yugi blinked at him. _Then those two priests were actually telling the truth?_ Hesi-re went on. “Much as you have improved under my tutelage, you were hardly my first choice. But, since the priests have spoken so eloquently on your behalf, I have decided to send you to Waset to study under Penu.” Shocked, Yugi stared at him.

“Go to… _Waset_?” _Home of the king and capital city of Kemet, Waset?_

“You may restrain your enthusiasm,” said Hesi-re dryly.

“Wait - you said the priests spoke for me. They suggested me?” Yugi asked. The man nodded. _I knew they were up to something, but to get me out of the city completely… This is going too far._ He opened his mouth to refuse the offer.

“Of course, this is a great honour,” Hesi-re grumbled. “Your… _family_ will be very proud.” The old scribe had always thought little of Yugi, second generation to an army scribe, but his words did make Yugi pause.

__

To go to Waset as an apprentice… So many more doors would be open to him if he put down roots in the capital. To emerge from the king’s resident house of life as a scribe held so much more sway than another one from Wetjeset-Hor. Besides, it would make his mother happy to see him doing so well.

Yugi sighed. “Very well.” To his credit, Hesi-re looked neither pleased nor upset by his acquiescence. “When should I leave?”

“There is a boat from Abu that is due in two days,” replied the scribe. “Take that, and this recommendation.” Hesi-re gave him a roll of sealed papyrus. “I expect Penu will allow you to stay at the house of life until you find lodgings elsewhere. I shall make sure that sufficient provisions are sent on to your family,” he added, and showed Yugi the arrangement that would be written in stone. He was satisfied. _That, at least, is one thing less to worry about._ “I suggest you spend the next two days with them.”

Yugi nodded. He gave Hesi-re a quick, perfunctory bow. “Thank you, master, for your instruction.”

“Hmph,” was all the old man would say, so Yugi grabbed his palette and left.

__

Waset… he thought, racing back through the corridors in search of Hor. A touch of excitement began to lift his spirits. Waset was the greatest city in the world - how bad could it be?

_  
_

x

It had been much easier than he thought, explaining the situation to his mother. She had been delighted, as he’d expected she would be, and had packed for every eventuality. Hor, on the other had, had taken a little more persuasion. The priest was focussed more on the dangers of his journey than the benefits. Now, as Yugi approached the great city on the flow of the river, he could understand Hor’s concern. Waset was enormous - larger than Wetjeset-Hor by far. The journey itself had been short and uneventful, but Hor’s warning had been of the city itself. He claimed that the Southern City was dangerous - deceitful and corrupt. Gazing across at it now, Yugi dismissed his friend’s worries. On the opposite bank, he could see the great walls, peppered with half a dozen large gates, and beyond that the first of the tall, imperious sanctuaries to the Great Triad. How could a city so magnificent possibly be home to sin?

Around him, the sailors began drawing up the single sail and steering towards the bank. Yugi tried to stay out of their way, hovering near the stern of the ship. He gripped the rope strap across his chest tightly, wordlessly assuring himself that his bag was still there. The men shouted orders to others that waited on the rock jetty, and tossed them their mooring lines. They swiftly brought the ship to a halt alongside the landing stage.

In less than a minute the ship was swarmed with men, who got to work unloading the cargo and jostled Yugi until he finally stumbled across onto the quay. “Hey, ow-” Darting through the masses, Yugi nodded farewell to the captain and scrambled up the bank of the river. There he paused for a minute to catch his breath.

The harbour stretched on down the river for some way before it ended. On the bank, Yugi was surrounded by men and animals and a cacophony of noise as each one tried to make itself heard. Hordes of traders plied their wares along the bank. He spotted a few soldiers and one or two tall Kushite warriors whose stony expressions unnerved him. Yugi wiped sweat off his brow. He glanced around. The city rose from the edge of the river, and, although there were a number of men waiting by the harbour, no one came forward to meet him. _Of course not_ , thought Yugi, a reluctant smile tugging at the sides of his mouth. _I am a lowly apprentice, after all - I don’t know why I thought things would change._ So he lifted his bag higher on his back and started walking.

Along the sides of the road loitered stray dogs and beggars. A few women were standing in the shade of the buildings, advertising their bodies. Treading carefully, Yugi avoided them, sticking close to the centre of the road. The structures that bordered the road were simple, mud-brick houses. Further away he could see large estates owned by the elite that could afford to live outside the city walls. Most of the people on the road seemed to be familiar with the city, Yugi noticed. _Or they’re just better at disguising themselves,_ he thought. He was certainly smaller than a lot of the men, and he felt out of place among the bronzed crowd.

Soon they came to the gates of the inner walls. Within them, Yugi could see a labyrinth of wide roads and houses, that got smaller as they wound deeper into the capital. It looked very confusing, and Yugi bit his lip. _I am sure Hesi-re said the house of life was quite close to the centre - or was it near the temples?_ “Damn,” he muttered. Under the wide stone arch were a group of soldiers waving people into the city. They lounged around , drinking, but were obviously familiar with Waset. _And,_ thought Yugi, _probably my safest bet if I do not want to get led into a dark alley and robbed._ Yugi waded through the horde towards them.

One man stood at the side, overseeing the multitude. Yugi halted by his side. “Excuse me.” 

The soldier acknowledged him but didn’t turn. “Get in, then, or stop taking up space.”

Yugi shuffled closer. “Um, could you tell me how to get to the House of Life? Please?” he asked, loudly over the bray of a donkey.

“Scribe, is it?” The soldier scrubbed at his own short hair. “Just follow the road straight until you get to the mar-” He turned, then, and his mouth dropped open. “You - Majesty, what are you -?”

Yugi shifted. “What?” 

The soldier took a step back and looked him over narrowly. “Your name?” he barked, motioning to the other guards. They each moved to stand around him and Yugi gulped.

“It’s Yugi,” he said.

“You’re a white kilt,” the man muttered. “Unbelievable. I thought scribes would be above this.”

_  
_

“Above _what_?” Yugi asked, his voice rising as he tried to beat back his anxiety.

Snarling, the man grabbed his arm and shook him viciously. “Insolent brat,” he spat. The other guards stripped away his bag and dug through it, tossing aside the clothes and food his mother had packed so carefully.

“Hey-” Yugi’s shout was muffled when the guard threw him to the ground. He wrenched back his arm and seized a handful of Yugi’s hair, yanking at it mercilessly. “Ow, _stop_ -” The pain brought tears to his eyes. The soldier slammed a foot into his ribs. With a cry, Yugi curled up around his stomach.

“Did you think we were too _common_ to see what you were doing?” The man’s shout meant nothing to him, Yugi merely flinched away. “We will take you to the palace,” said the soldier grimly. “The king will decide what is to be done with you.”

Yugi was hauled to his feet, his hands bound, and was dragged, unresisting, through the gates of the Southern City.


	2. Chapter 2

The walls of the palace loomed over the other houses like some kind of fiendish divinity. Yugi struggled a little as they left the road, but the soldiers hauled him forward. Their grip on his arms bit deeply.

The courtyard of the palace quietened as they entered, and it seemed as if even the horses stopped to stare. One of the guards yanked him against his side and Yugi tossed his head back. The kohl around his eyes was smudged and there was sand and dirt in his hair and on his body from where they’d tossed him to the ground. People were gaping at him, astonished.

A taller man approached them - an overseer, judging by his clothes. He looked at the soldiers with disdain. “What are you doing here? How dare you disturb the king’s peace?"

The guard spat and shook Yugi until he thought his bones would rattle. "Do not spout your pompous babble at me, _imi-ra_." His tone made the title a curse. He grabbed a handful of Yugi’s hair and jerked his head back with such force that Yugi cried out. "We’ve brought this demon-mimic to the king for judgement," he said harshly. _Demon-mimic?_ Yugi fought their hold. "Wait," he said, desperate now. "There must be a mistake. I am a scribe from Wetjeset-Hor, I am to study with Penu-" he said, pleadingly, but the overseer was staring at him in shock.

"Very well." The man nodded jerkily and backed away. A young boy was near him, barefoot and dusty, and the overseer tugged him closer. "You, boy - take them to the king." One fearful glance at the soldiers and the boy hastened into the palace. The men followed him, even as Yugi twisted and turned in their grasp.

"Wait! I am _not_ a-" Pain shot through him as a soldier backhanded him across the face. Yugi sagged, dazed. Half of his face throbbed in agony and he barely noticed as he was dragged into the Great House.

They passed through the gate and a large hall opened over their heads. Before them the servant boy had stopped and was talking to a group of men. Some were dressed in the finery of the palace, others wore the broad band of the _kheri-heb_ priests diagonally across their chest. The guards yanked Yugi towards them. One of the men turned, taller than the lector priests by at least a head. He carried a long, golden staff and his eyes were fierce and blue, deeper than the sky.

" _Nsw bity_!" His legs folded and the guards released him. Yugi dropped to the ground, pressing his forehead to the hot sand and praying to all the gods that he'd live. 

He heard laughter behind him, then; "I am not the king."

Yugi peered up. His expression must have betrayed his confusion, as a tall man with light eyes helped him stand. "This is Set, High Priest of Amun," he said.

"And that is Mahaad, Court Magician," spat the priest, crossing his arms over his chest. Mahaad glanced at him but did not respond, instead propelling Yugi past the men towards the shaded palace halls. Behind them the priests dispersed, tossing insults as the guards squabbled over a reward.

"Where is the king?" Yugi asked, not quite able to quench his curiosity in the face of Mahaad's genial rescue.

"You will know when you see him," said Mahaad, a smile tugging at his lips. "Most definitely you will know." While that sounded more ominous than Yugi had expected, he held onto his courage and refused to be intimidated by the opulence that surrounded them.

Huge lotus columns bore silent witness to their passing. Through them Yugi glimpsed clean, crisp servants, bejewelled courtiers and a _sem_ priest in ceremonial leopard skins. The palace was so quiet, the busy heat of Waset seemed to be another world away. 

They strode in silence along the corridors, a silence that swiftly became uncomfortable as more and more people stopped to stare at them. At him. Yugi held his aching head up and ignored them. He tried not to wonder what his punishment would be for carrying the same face as a god. Beside him Mahaad barely gave them a glance, seemingly unaware of the notice Yugi was attracting. He behaved as though every dirt-born scribe who wandered the palace was doomed to death. Yugi gulped at the thought of his head born on the pikes of the city gates: this king was not known for his mercy.

Soon - too soon - Mahaad led him past a pair of Medjay guards, their faces set in stone. Beyond the entrance they guarded, Yugi could see the court of the king, laid out in casual disorder. Courtiers and nobles and everywhere more guards. 

Sound slowly dissipated as they entered, each person turning to stare at him. Mahaad went on, and the court parted like sand before them. Yugi's head dropped lower and lower as more and more eyes turned towards him. He couldn't bear their gaze. _Please,_ he begged. _Oh Djeheuty, protect your servant. Oh gods, please protect your faithful._ He stumbled across the cool stone floor beside the magician. After a few moments the whispers started. The courtiers withdrew as if he were diseased, hissing their surprise to each other. An old man stood at the foot of the dais, his grey hair wild and his eyes large and assessing. Yugi avoided his gaze, shrinking into the shadows behind Mahaad.

The magician finally came to a stop, falling to his knees. Hastily Yugi followed him down. "King of _Ta-Shemau_ and _Ta-Mehu_ Akhenre, Son of Ra Atemu, Beloved of-" He fell silent as though cut off, and began again. "I kneel before you, Majesty," said Mahaad, his voice ringing through the large hall. "The soldiers found this… person… on the streets. They brought him here, for your judgement." Yugi’s heart seemed to be trying desperately to claw its way out of his chest. Trembling, he looked up.

On the throne lounged the king, one leg thrown over its arm. From his hand dangled the ceremonial flail, which he moved idly but did not use. His presence was at the same time commanding and insolent, but Yugi's eyes focussed on the inverted pyramid dangling from the king's neck. Dark, inhuman shadows curled around the gold shape, reaching up to the king and caressing the worn granite of the throne. Yugi shuddered and drew back.

Slowly, the king stood, and Yugi pressed his forehead to the floor. The courtiers fell silent, and even Mahaad seemed to shrink away from him. The sound of the king’s footsteps crept closer. "Sit up." His voice was deeper than Yugi had expected, and so regal. He sat back on his knees, carefully keeping his eyes focussed on the elaborate sandals in front of him. _Oh Gods_ , he thought, twisting his hands in his kilt. _Have mercy on me_. Long fingers gripped his chin. "What manner of creature are you," said the king, tipping back Yugi's head, "to have stolen my face?" A part of Yugi nearly laughed at the absurdity of his words - how could they think such a pale imitation the work of some evil spirit? It had to be a very bad one to produce such shoddy results, for the king was magnificent. His body was sleek and powerful, his features chiselled as if from granite, and his eyes… His eyes looked crimson in the light, the colour of fire, but they were hard and cold as stone.

Yugi couldn’t hold the king’s gaze, and his eyes dropped to stare at the floor. "Forgive me, my lord," he managed, his voice tiny in the large hall. His mouth opened but he found he didn’t know what to say. Suddenly he wished he had shaved his head at the beginning of his apprenticeship. "The gods blessed me with this face," Yugi said finally, praying that he did not sound as insolent as he thought.

The Living Horus snorted, and his fingers let go of Yugi’s jaw. Almost gasping at the sudden release, Yugi went, again, to the floor. A tendril of darkness slithered from the king’s foot, creeping towards him across the stone. Yugi drew his hand away. Finally the king stepped back, and when Yugi looked again the shadow was gone. "Kill him," said the indifferent voice. "Rip off his head and spear it on the palace walls." Yugi gulped. His mouth tasted of sand and fear. His life - his _death_ \- was being decided, and the king sounded simply… bored. Fearful, now, and uncaring of his punishment, Yugi looked up.

"Your majesty," said the old man by the throne. He leant close to the dais, his eyes roving over Yugi's face. The king stared at him, too. Under their combined gaze Yugi shuddered and sank lower towards the floor. He waited anxiously. "If I might make a suggestion?" The king waved a hand and the man bowed his head and went on. "It may be useful," he suggested. "To keep this… boy - this mirror image - alive, to use as a decoy, if you so wish it. He may prove to be a valuable weapon against our enemies." The young ruler sat on his throne and cupped his chin in his hand, watching Yugi closely. Against the gold and granite of the dais, the colours of his hair stood out brightly, so like Yugi’s own.

"… What think you, Mahaad?" he asked.

The magician stood. "I agree with Siamun." His fingers curled under Yugi’s jaw and lifted his head for inspection once again. Mahaad’s eyes were bright and warm. "He does look very much like you, _nsw_ , and yet different, at the same time." Mahaad turned the scribe’s head from side to side. Yugi felt the gazes of the court on his face, and tried not to let his fear show. "I would like to examine him more thoroughly, but I do not think he is a demon." Mahaad smiled, and let him go. "Merely a young man," he said, straightening. "Who would, I imagine, prove more useful living than dead." Yugi prayed fervently that the king would agree.

Those crimson eyes had not once strayed from his face. Now they narrowed as the king sat back. "I am not convinced," he said, and Yugi’s heart plummeted. "Bring me the High Priest." A pair of soldiers snapped to attention and slid out of the hall. "Even if he _is_ human, he may be just as dangerous to us as to our enemies. There is no telling what he might do, with the face of a king."

Mahaad stepped forward, and Yugi felt a glimmer of gratitude to the man for attempting to stay the king’s hand. "My lord, if he is kept near, I believe he can be controlled." Yugi winced at that. "Keep him in service, and always under a close eye, and he shall prove worthy of your mercy."

"Would you vouch for him, then, Mahaad?" the king asked, his eyes gleaming. "And risk your own life?"

The magician hesitated, then inclined his head. "Not… at this time, my lord."

"No, I did not think so," and the king leant back, satisfied. He tapped the flail absently against his calf. Yugi could feel the heat of his gaze and stared at the beautiful hieroglyphs winding up the arms of the throne. "Strange," the king murmured, so quietly Yugi could only just hear him. "I have never seen a likeness so strong, except in those related by blood." He looked to Siamun, but the old man was already shaking his head.

"Impossible." His brow furrowed and he looked offended by the very idea. "The late king had no other wives, and after… after your birth, my lord, he sired no other children.”

"We are not related," blurted Yugi, sitting up. "My father was from Wetjeset-Hor and my mother moved there when she was a child." Deadly silence followed his words, and the king turned to him with rage glittering cold in his eyes. Swallowing, Yugi shrank back. Tremors of real fear raced down his spine. The king rose from his chair and opened his mouth to speak, but a different voice disturbed the quiet.

" _Per-a’ah_." Beside Yugi knelt the tall form of the High Priest. "You summoned me?"

Again the king stepped down from the dais. "This boy," he said, gesturing towards Yugi. Contempt was palpable in his voice. "What do you make of him, Set?"

The priest’s blue eyes looked at Yugi, and he felt like an insect among gods. "The demon-boy," muttered Set. Then, louder, "He seems innocent, my lord. At least at first glance."

Crimson narrowed impatiently. "I am not asking you to glance at him, priest."

Set bowed his head courteously. "There has been an omen," he began. "But of good portent. I believe this boy will be of great use to the kingdom." Yugi sighed in relief. "But he should be watched," Set added then. "Very closely."

"Indeed," snorted the king. He glanced at Yugi once more, and a speculative gleam entered his eyes. "Then, since you all agree on at least one thing, I will give him to you, Set."

The priest jerked. "Majesty?" he ventured, his body going very still.

"I believe you are in need of a decent servant. You are travelling up to the cataract, are you not?" Set’s lips pressed into a grim line as the king’s eyes danced at him. "Take him with you to Swenet, and bring back to me my _tekhen_. I am sure you can find a use for him - and he needs experience, if he is to stay near."

When Yugi looked over, the priest’s face was as dark as a thundercloud. "As you wish it." He knelt and kissed the king’s feet - _his feet_ , thought Yugi with a shock. This man was highly favoured. As he rose, he made a jerking motion at Yugi and backed away towards the doors. Cautiously, Yugi followed him.

The king turned back to the dais, and Siamun loudly dismissed the court. In the throng of people leaving, Yugi kept his eye on Set’s golden staff and stuck close by him. The great doors appeared before them, and, hesitantly, Yugi glanced back. The king was seated on his throne, his chin in his hand and his burning eyes fixed on Yugi.

Shivering, the young scribe darted out of the hall, but the image of that cold gaze was still fixed in his mind.


	3. Chapter 3

Set was a harsh taskmaster. He demanded perfection from all of his servants, and Yugi was no exception. The high priest stood on the bank of the river, his far-reaching gaze scrutinizing the men around him. Bobbing on the water sat a massive boat made of cedar, speared through with large bolts and caulked with papyrus. Dozens of men were loading food and animals on board. Yugi stood nervously behind the high priest. Next to Set’s regal linen _shendyt_ and his spotless papyrus sandals, Yugi felt dirty and unrefined. Yugi’s pale skin heated quickly in the sun, and already he could feel beads of sweat forming at the nape of his neck.

As if sensing his unease, Set turned that fierce, kohl-lined gaze on Yugi. “Be still,” he commanded. “The boat will leave shortly.” Yugi’s own violet eyes narrowed, but he inclined his head and remained silent. _I hate priests,_ he seethed. _Arrogant, pretentious, stuck-up, desert jackal scum_ … His mind ran out of analogies, and he contented himself with boring holes in the back of Set’s calves. Apparently this little trip to the southern border had already been organised and assembled, and awaited only the king’s leisure. Whatever kind of twisted impulse had led the king to send Yugi with them, it had been carried out with all due haste. Mahaad had disappeared into the shadows of the palace - Yugi already missed his kind eyes - and the high priest had become his new guide. Everything had happened rather quickly, and before he knew it Yugi found himself tagging along at the priest’s heels like a new pet.

_I should be grateful that I still have my head,_ Yugi thought to himself. Somehow, though, he couldn’t bring himself to feel any gratitude for that, given that his offence was merely a cruel twist of fate. _This must be some trick of the gods,_ he sighed. _Only they would have such a bitter sense of humour.  
_  
A rough, gnarled old man stopped by the high priest’s feet. He performed a formal bow, touching his head to the lush grass. The two exchanged a few words, then the man backed away and began rounding up the deckhands. Set strode onto the boat with far more ceremony than was necessary. Yugi hurried after him, jostled among the sailors and craftsmen.

Towards the stern of the boat a small cabin had been constructed, covered in rush matting; rooms for the high priest, no doubt. The men dispersed across the boat, finding their positions and settling into them. Set stood behind the mast, waiting. Soon the boat shuddered and began to drift away from the shore. Heaving at the oars, the men fought against the current and drove the ship upstream. Yugi watched as they left behind the city that he’d seen only briefly.

Along the banks of the river, the marsh reeds were green and plush. White ibis birds darted through them and kingfishers hovered above, their plumage dazzling. As they swept along, the breeze blew warm and comforting on his face. Yugi closed his eyes and leant into it. Had it really been such a short time since he’d last been here?

“Scribe.” Startled at the sharp word, Yugi opened his eyes. Set crossed his arms and glowered.

Yugi’s eyebrows rose as he searched for something to say. _Why don’t I know how to address the high priest?_ He settled for a perfunctory “My lord,” and hoped he looked subservient enough. 

Set strode past him into the cabin and Yugi ducked in behind him, grateful to move into the cooler shade. The space inside the cabin was long. One or two small pallets had been placed towards the back, and a larger one at the front. Two wooden stools sat on one side, inlaid with graceful animal figures. Set took one and gestured towards the deck. Sighing, Yugi tucked his legs underneath him and dropped to the floor. Outside he could hear the steady movement of the oars and the sound of water against the hull.

“What is your name, scribe?” Set sat rigid on his throne.

“Yugi,” the boy answered. He felt a sudden wave of melancholy as he thought of home, the last place that he had been called by name, and sternly he pushed it down. The tall priest was staring into space, and Yugi doubted his words meant anything to him.

However… “Yugi,” Set muttered. The scribe looked up, but couldn’t tell if the priest was calling him or simply speaking aloud. “Where are you from, Yugi?”

“Wetjeset-Hor, my lord?” Yugi’s voice rose on the last word, unsure of this sudden interest in his history.

Lacing his fingers together, Set leant back in his seat. “Indeed,” he murmured. His blue eyes stared into space. “Tutored under Hesi-re, by any chance?”

Startled, Yugi blurted out, “How did you know?”

A wry glance. “The priests are not so distant from the House of Life as they would have you believe. The chief scribe at the king’s own House sent a request to Hesi-re for a talented scribe.” _Talented,_ Yugi thought with a quick surge of pride. “Your arrival was expected.”

“Expected?!” cried Yugi. “If you k _new_ I was coming-” He shut his mouth with a snap but Set’s eyes burned at him.

“Utter such an insolent remark in the king’s presence,” the priest hissed, gripping the arms of the chair tightly, “and you will not live to regret it! If you speak in such a tone to me again, I will punish you myself.” Yugi hung his head repentantly. “Just so,” Set muttered. Anger was still the prevalent undertone in his voice, and Yugi realised that the high priest was quick to anger, and still slow to forgive. _All priests are the same_ , he thought. “I have only a few days to train you,” Set went on, as if to himself. “Certainly not long enough.”

The high priest relapsed into thoughtful silence and Yugi sat there uncomfortably for a few long moments. The boat rocked gently underneath him. “May I ask a question, my lord?” Yugi said carefully.

“Better,” the priest said curtly. “What is it?”

“What…” Yugi entwined his fingers together tightly. “What will become of me, afterwards?” he asked quietly. “Why did He give me to you?” He could not mention the king’s name, but by the narrowing of his eyes, Set knew very well who he meant.

“He gave you into my service to plague me,” the man answered sullenly. “He seems to take great delight in doing so.” Set shifted and seemed to recall his audience. “But as for your first question, I do not know.” He shook his head - wearily, Yugi thought. “There is no use trying to predict the king’s actions. He tells no one his reasons. One can only hope,” he murmured, even more quietly, “that he will have forgotten you by the time we return.”

A cold shudder ran down Yugi’s spine and he could not repress a sense of foreboding. For some reason he could not explain, he did not want to be remembered by the king.

__

x

Set sat with him for most of the day, explaining Yugi’s new position in detail. Yugi would replace Set’s previous Sandal-Bearer and personal scribe. For the most part it seemed to be an administrative position. Indeed, he was still expected to write, to take dictation from Set if the high priest had no time ( _or inclination_ , Yugi added) to write or deal with his own messages. Indeed, his previous servant had been Chamberlain of the House of Life, no small position. He would also - and Yugi noted this with a little displeasure - act as the high priest’s personal servant. (The man apparently could not dress himself without assistance.)

Set talked him through each of his tasks and Yugi assimilated them easily enough. When they got back to the palace, his first duty would be to Set. There he would take his place as Sandal-Bearer. Until then, Yugi made himself useful around the boat.

In reality, there was very little to do but watch the riverbank go by. Each duty was covered by the sailors, and Set stayed cloistered inside his personal cabin. Like the sailors, Yugi slept on the deck. Set slept somewhere toward the stern of the boat. Finally Yugi reverted to tidying the outer room, without much progress. The man was meticulously neat. A few scrolls of papyrus lay scattered over the desk, and Yugi wasted a few minutes hustling them into an orderly pile. A _senet_ board lay out on the nearby table, inlaid with gold and ebony. Yugi glanced at it longingly. He had not played in months, since before he had left Wetjeset-Hor.

“You play?”The sudden sound made Yugi jump. Set was behind him, his gaze cold but not unkind.

“A little,” he said, which was not a lie, but perhaps not the whole truth. _Now_ he only played a little, but _senet_ was one of his favourite games, and Yugi considered himself, all false modesty aside, an excellent player.

“Show me.” Yugi stared. The high priest settled into one of the lion pawed chairs and rested his hands on his lap. Hesitantly, Yugi sat down opposite him. It was quiet in the cabin save for the quiet rush of the water going by. Set’s blue eyes almost seemed to glow in the dim light. Perhaps he was imagining it, but Yugi could feel that assessing gaze like a heavy weight on his shoulders.

“All right.” Yugi picked up the sticks and offered them to Set. Shaking his head, the high priest gestured at him to go first. His gaze never wavered and Yugi realised, then, that this was a test.

Black and white pieces were lined up one side of the board. There were three rows of squares. On the last row two squares were inscribed with the symbols for beauty and water. The last square after that was the final square. Yugi had to get all of his ivory pieces across the board and home safely. He threw the sticks.

Three fell face up, and one down. Yugi moved his first piece forward three squares. It was Set’s turn to throw. He, too, threw three. The high priest hovered over the game for a moment, then picked up a piece and moved it into the place Yugi had just vacated. Yugi threw again, moving his second piece onto the board. The high priest moved his second piece into place beside his first. 

“How old are you, Yugi?” Set asked quietly. The scribe paused briefly.

“I am just turned sixteen years, my lord.” He threw again. Two. He couldn’t swap his second piece with Set’s first, as they were a pair, so he moved his first piece forward.

“And how long were you in the House of Life at Wetjeset-Hor?” Set threw a four and moved up his fourth piece. Yugi could already see that the man’s strategy consisted of grouping his pieces together rather than setting off alone. The high priest took another turn, swapping one of his last pieces with one of Yugi’s. _A ruthless player, too.  
_  
It was a few minutes before Yugi answered, concentrating on the game. “A… few years, my lord.” Longer than he should have been, given his skill. Yugi did not know why he had not been suggested for promotion. He could only assume that Hesi-re was grooming him for some kind of position at the House itself. Skill spoke for itself, and Yugi had always been a polite student. Set nodded in reply.

“How long have you served as high priest?” asked Yugi carefully, unwilling to waste Set’s genial mood.

The other man stared at the board for a long moment, and Yugi thought he wouldn’t answer, until, “Almost six seasons.” Absently he twisted one of the two golden rings that signified his position. On Yugi’s next move, he threw a four, and then another two fours in quick succession. He used the moves to bring two pieces onto the second row. Set blocked in his last piece with a row of three. Blue eyes glinted fiercely, and Yugi felt his own competitive spirit rising.

“And your father was High Priest?” His first piece had reached the final row.

“No.” Set’s reply was short. “My father died in battle.”

“Ah.” Yugi searched for something to say. He moved his first piece off the board. Set quickly followed him.   
When it came to Yugi’s turn, he realised Set had blocked him in. Whichever way he tried to move, he came up either on his own pieces, or Set’s pair, which couldn’t be swapped. Frowning, he missed his go. “My father was a scribe in the army. He died a some time ago.” Silence reigned between them. Set was studying the board carefully, but he nodded in reply to Yugi’s statement. He showed no sign of the contempt priests usually felt for army scribes and Yugi unbent a little. Set moved one of the pair and Yugi was free to move another piece off the board. He only had two pieces left.

“And your mother?” Set’s expression was clear, focussed on the game. One of his pieces sat on the _per nefer_ , safe from his opponent. Yugi threw again, hoping for a three or a four. If he threw a two, he would land in the water, and have to begin again. 

Four. Yugi breathed a sigh of relief and moved one of his pieces off the board. Somehow, he wanted to pass whatever test this was. “My mother grew up in Waset as a child, and moved to Wetjeset-Hor where she married my father. She is happy there,” he said, and knew that to be the truth. In a way, he, too, had been content. Content, but never quite happy.

“And what is it you wish to do, Yugi? To become?” Only two pieces stood on the board, one black and one white. Set threw a two, and moved to the last square but one. Yugi’s turn. If Yugi threw a two, he would win.

“I…” Yugi hesitated. All of his life he had trained to be a scribe - it was an excellent profession, reputable and well-paid. Now that he had been asked, though, he could not answer. He gripped the bunch of sticks in his hand tightly. “I do not really know.” Set was watching him carefully. “I would like… I think,” he murmured, almost to himself. “I think I would like to travel. To see the world beyond Kemet.” _To experience the things I have only dreamt about,_ he thought, and threw.

The sticks clattered against the board. Two lay face up.


	4. Chapter 4

It was on the fifth day of their journey that the boat reached its destination. Yugi stood near the prow of the ship, eagerly watching the fish swarm past them. The river spread out on either side, but ahead Yugi could see it narrow, flanked by boulders and rocky islets. The border between Kemet and Kush. Swenet arose on the east bank, first city of Kemet, and on the island of Abu stood the citadel.

The sailors cried out when they saw the island and, heaving at the oars, they pushed the boat forward. Abu had earned its name from the shape the island made; an elephant’s trunk. Yugi squinted, but he could not see the resemblance. Set stepped out of the canopy and began barking orders. Yugi hurried back to his side. Abu grew steadily closer, and finally they pulled up to a small mooring platform half-hidden by the vegetation. Yugi saw a small group of men assembling on the bank of the river to greet them. Eventually the sailors finished and Set moved forward. Yugi stayed close on his heels, his eyes wide as he disembarked. The island was lush and green.

A tall man greeted Set, dressed in an overseer’s garb. “My lord Set, we have been expecting you. The obelisk is ready,” he added, standing a little taller as he spoke. “The stone from our quarries is the best in Kemet: the king’s obelisk will stand forever.”

“Excellent. Have it loaded onto the boat immediately.” Although Set’s words should have sounded pleased, Yugi couldn’t detect a thread of emotion in his voice. “I trust you have something prepared for myself and the men?” _At least he remembered_ them, thought Yugi dryly.

“We have, yes.” The man hesitated. “Only… That is, the General and his division are stationed here at the moment, my lord. We do not have a great deal to spare.”

“Are they indeed?” Yugi shot a startled glance upwards. Set was speaking through gritted teeth. _By Amun, what is it now?_ “Then we will not be staying beyond tomorrow.” There was an audible groan from the boat behind them. “Where is the general?”

“This way, my lord.” The overseer bowed and led them down the river bank. Yugi heard the crew start grumbling amongst themselves and wished he was with them. After a few minutes they reached an encampment. Soldiers were milling around and cast them curious glances as they passed. They came to a space where the bank dipped a little, and a man stood bathing in the shallows. “General,” called out the overseer. “The High Priest of Amun has asked to speak to you.” Clearly uneasy in their presence, the man backed away, his duty done. Yugi peered curiously past Set.

The General stood facing the river, seemingly unperturbed that he had his back to one of the most powerful men in the Two Kingdoms. Water as clear as glass lapped at his thighs, and he splashed it over himself, rubbing the sand from thick, golden hair. Beside Yugi the high priest crossed his arms, his irritation almost palpable. “Would you so easily turn your back on an enemy of the king?” he asked, voice dark.

In the shallows of the river the dawn light danced and played. The bronze warrior tilted his head back towards the sun. “I save my wrath for Kemet’s true rivals. You should know that by now, priest.” He turned and Yugi saw his face.

“Jou!” Yugi leapt forward but then halted suddenly as he remembered himself. Set merely raised an eyebrow. Striding out of the river, Jou ignored him, seemingly unconcerned by his own nakedness. A fledgling grin was spreading across his face and he dashed the water from his body.

“Yugi!” He caught the scribe in a hug, his tanned arms squeezing Yugi’s shoulders tightly. His eyebrows rose as he stood back. “Hey, you’ve grown.” Surprise and warmth lit his brown eyes, and he ran a thumb across Yugi’s jaw. “Pale as ever, though. Still in that white kilt?” Rolling his eyes, Yugi pushed him away.

“Better than being out here,” he replied, waving his hand at the camp behind them.

“Oi.” Jou ruffled the scribe’s dark hair. “So Hesi’re didn’t make you shave it after all.” His eyes flickered up to Set as he spoke. “And I see that you’ve been up to Waset.”

The high priest inclined his head. “The king has decided to make him an… official of the court.”

“Good.” Tension seeped from Jou’s body. Yugi quirked an eyebrow but the man ignored him, tucking him under his arm and dragging him back towards the camp. “So, you’re here for Atem’s needle, then?” The soldier wrapped a linen loincloth around his hips as he spoke.

“Indeed. The king wishes to add it to his father’s complex,” Set answered, trailing behind them. Without his golden staff the man seemed smaller, somehow.

“And whatever Atem wants, he somehow manages to get.”

“You know the king?” asked Yugi, sitting down under a broad canopy. Shrugging, Jou dropped down next to him. When Set was seated, a few slave-girls brought them bread and fish and an assortment of dried and fresh fruit.

“We served together. He led the campaign against the Sand-dwellers,” Jou said as they ate. “The king is… a worthy commander,” he conceded, smirking at Set. “But he’s also an arrogant, bull-headed brat.” The priest sent him a warning glare. Between them, Yugi grinned down at his plate. His mother had told him that his father’s division was somewhere near Swenet and the border, but he had not really expected to find his old friend still here. He was glad he had. Among the other soldiers, Jou seemed perfectly at ease and, more than that, in control.

“What are you doing here?” In the company of the two officials, Yugi should have felt diffident and self-conscious, but neither the priest nor the soldier seemed keen on punishing his familiarity.

“There are still some rebels among the Sand-dwellers, and Kush is a threat.” Jou stretched languidly. “We wait for the king to call us home, though I expect we’ll see _Wep-renpet_ before he does.”

“The king is concerned with more important matters,” Set commented, his eyes flashing blue fire.

Opposite him, Jou grinned. “Oh, I am sure that his slave-girls are important.” The high priest growled, and Yugi hastily intervened.

“When did you become General?”

“Ah.” Jou chuckled awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. “I wondered when you’d pick up on that. Atem appointed me about… five months ago. It just so happened to mean that he wouldn’t need to oversee the campaign any longer.”

The high priest snorted. “Must you persist in calling him by name?”

“Must you persist interrupting me?” Jou retorted. “It did mean, though, that I could handle that skirmish on the border. And that was close, we almost lost to those damned sorcerers.” Brown eyes glowing, Jou launched into a blow by blow account of the battle. Set rolled his eyes and stalked off but Yugi sat listening with baited breath.

He hadn’t seen Jou in years. His familiar presence acted as a soothing balm and Yugi soon found himself relaxing and sharing stories of his own time in the House of Life with Hor and Hesi-re. When Jou learnt that Set planned to leave the next day, he burst into laughter but wouldn’t tell Yugi why. “Don’t worry,” he chuckled. “Set and I see much of each other, so you and I will see a lot of each other. As soon as Atem calls us home, I’ll be in that palace. Even if I have to walk there.” Yugi was reassured. The thought of Jou keeping him company in Waset almost made him look forward to returning to the capital. They talked for long into the night, laughing over Set and his priests. It was not until the darkness and the cold crept in that they began to tire. Jou called for blankets and they curled up around the fire to sleep.

The next morning, Set woke him. Yugi rubbed his eyes and yawned. Jou, he saw, had already gone and the camp was awake and moving. “Fresh provisions have been loaded onto the boat. We leave immediately.”

“Now?” Yugi stared at him. “But… but I have to say farewell to Jou!”

Set’s mouth turned down at the corner. “I have no desire to see more of that idiot dog. He will be in Waset soon enough. Come with me,” he ordered, turning away.

“Oh,” muttered Yugi. _I have no choice, then_. Pink light illuminated the shapes of the tents around them as they left. The breeze was strong but still cool. At the river, the men were raising the sail, preparing for their journey home. Despondent, Yugi climbed aboard. He looked back towards the land of Kush.

“Yugi!” The shout resonated loudly in the calm air. He spun round. Jou stood on a rock by the river, waving. “See you at _Wep-renpet_!” he yelled.

A wide grin spread across his face. “See you at the new year!” he called back, waving as the ship cast off. He kept watching as Jou’s figure faded to a dot, and then disappeared entirely.

__

x

Their journey back to Waset was much shorter. The current carried them downriver swiftly and in almost no time at all the city loomed into view. The massive obelisk that they were taking back to the king lay strapped to a second boat. It was a huge needle-point of limestone, carved with the king’s father’s names and his victories. When it was erected at _Ipet-iswt_ , it would tower over the populace.

Contrary to Yugi’s expectation, Set neither bullied him nor neglected him. Instead he was treated with a distant kind of condescension. Yugi’s tasks on the ship were few, and so the high priest inspected his letters and spent a few hours instructing him on the etiquette of the court. This mostly consisted of being quiet and unobtrusive. By the time they reached the fourth _sepat_ , Yugi also had a detailed knowledge of the palace and most of its inhabitants. “When we reach Waset,” Set had told him, “you will act as my Sandal-Bearer until I find you a more suitable office.” _Until you can get rid of me_ , Yugi translated. Although he had no real wish to stay with the man, he had to admit that the prospect was becoming less terrifying by the minute. Set was harsh, but not brutal. He wielded his power with severity instead of malice.

Yugi gripped the edge of the boat as they pulled up towards the bank of the river. Set appeared beside him, the blue of his eyes barely visible against the thick black kohl he wore. A leopard skin was draped over his shoulders. “You have duties in the temple?” asked Yugi, eyeing it.

The man nodded. “I have much to oversee at _Ipet-iswt_.” His eyebrows, also drawn on with kohl, were furrowed. Yugi wondered why, but knew better than to ask. Questions only seemed to irritate the man, so he waited and Set eventually rewarded his patience. “It is a little over a month until the new year begins. There are preparations to make, the gods will require many sacrifices if we are to appease them.”

“Appease…” he echoed. “Have we done something to anger them?” _Surely not_ , he thought, frowning. _The harvest this year is more than generous, and I heard of no serious floods.  
_  
“Perhaps…” Set replied darkly. “Perhaps not. It is too soon to tell.” He offered no more on the subject, so Yugi turned to watch the sailors work. As the riverbank came closer, he saw a couple of golden chariots waiting. Set huffed under his breath. “The king wishes to assure himself of our safe return.” Yugi repressed a grin at the sardonic note in his voice.

They disembarked quickly, Set leading the way. Palace guards stood in a wide ring around the chariots, their hands never far from their swords. Both Set and Yugi were allowed to pass without incident, although the scribe caught a few curious stares sent his way. 

Beyond the guards stood two chariots, each drawn by a pair of large stallions. Yugi knew little about horses beyond how to stay on, but even he could tell that these were in such good condition they had to belong to the king himself. A young charioteer held the reigns of one pair, but in the other chariot stood his majesty the king. Yugi dropped back, kneeling on the ground. Set ignored him, stepping closer to the chariot. The king raised a haughty eyebrow and bid them stand.

“I hope the obelisk is to Your Majesty’s pleasure?” Set asked, but his voice carried a different question.

“Fine enough,” the king responded , without a glance toward the boat. “I had hoped you would return today.”

“Your Majesty is too kind,” Set demurred.

“Quite,” agreed the king, crimson eyes glittering. “We have decided to travel south, before the season changes, to Nekhen.” _The city of Horus?_ Yugi thought in bemusement. “My advisors inform me that it would be far more dutiful to accept my people’s tribute in person.”

“I see. And you wish me to accompany your court on this… journey?” The king inclined his head. “I am flattered, my lord, but my duties in the temple-”

“Are being overseen by Karim. So you are freed from your duty to the gods of _Ipet-iswt_.” _But not to the god of Kemet, obviously_ , Yugi thought. From behind him, Yugi could not see anything of Set’s face, but he guessed that the man was seething.

“… As you wish, my lord. When shall I be ready to leave?”

“Immediately.” Yugi jerked at that. _Immediately!?_

“Immediately?” Even Set sounded startled. “But we have only just arrived! Surely the boats cannot be ready yet?”

“They are.” The king seemed to find the situation wickedly amusing. “Your arrival was a happy coincidence. I instructed your servants to bring whatever you would need.” He gathered up the reigns, suddenly impatient. “The boats will not wait long. Be quick.” With that he turned the chariot in a neat circle and thundered away over the bank. 

Hesitantly Yugi stepped forward. Set’s hands were clenched, but after a minute he shook himself. “Come,” he ordered, his voice curt once more. He climbed into the second chariot and Yugi hopped up beside him. The chariot was designed for two, not three, and Yugi had to cling to the very edge as they moved off.

“We are going to Nekhen?” he asked, grunting a little as the chariot bounced over the rough path.

“It would appear so.” Set stared off at the horizon, his expression grim. Yugi made to protest, but the high priest cut him off. “When the king has his mind set on something, it is generally better to do as he says.”

Yugi snorted. He had none of the high priest’s restraint. “For fear of ending up with your head on a stick,” he muttered.

“Yugi!” Set threw him a quelling glance. “The king has his reasons.” On that unsatisfying remark they lapsed into silence. Too soon they drew up by a large cedar ship, already swarming with sailors ready to get under way. Further up the bank Yugi could see another boat, larger, with an ornate canopy. The Royal Flagship, he guessed. It was already pulling away from the jetty and Set, seeing it, leapt down from the chariot.

“Quickly, Yugi.” Hurrying after him, Yugi elbowed his way past courtiers and sailors and climbed, a little wobbly, onto the deck. As soon as they were on board the ship cast off, and they pushed out into the middle of the river. Behind them four or five smaller ships followed suit, and before long they were all swooping along behind the king in his Royal Barge.

Yugi ran a hand through his tousled hair. Waset was quickly disappearing from sight. _What just happened?_


	5. Chapter 5

When they arrived in Nekhen, the Aten had begun to dip down towards the horizon. Already Yugi could feel the sensitive skin of his shoulders reddening, burning from his prolonged exposure to the sun. His body was too used to the cool, shadowed halls of the House of Life. Standing on the deck of the boat, he hadn’t given much thought to the heat, but now he wished he had stayed closer to Set. The other sailors were all tanned, visibly marked by their work in the open air. Yugi wondered how long it would take before his skin would also darken.

Word must have reached the city of the king’s imminent arrival, because a small crowd of people trailed along the rock jetty, awaiting the arrival of the boats. The royal ship had drifted back and so Yugi’s was the first to reach the quay. Set was inside the canopied shelter, together with one or two other officials that Yugi didn’t know.

It had not taken long to sail to Nekhen - the city was a short distance from the capital - but still Yugi was growing sick of the river. He had left Wetjeset-Hor only a few days ago, and he had spent all but one night in a boat on the river. _And I am exhausted_ , Yugi thought, threading his fingers through his hair. The priest had barely spoken to him since they had left Waset, and the other servants had their own duties to take care of. So Yugi was left to amuse himself by watching the river go by. It was beautiful, undeniably so, but there was nothing left to see. He was actually looking _forward_ to beginning his duties in the palace.

Slowly the boat drifted towards the jetty. As they approached, more sailors lined the quay, reaching out for the mooring ropes. Now familiar with this procedure, Yugi stood back, out of the way. At the prow, one man tossed out a large cable and the sailors caught it, dragging the boat in and lining it up against the quay. At once Set ducked out of the canopy, his eyes narrowed against the light. Two other courtiers strode out behind him, a tall woman with dark, flowing hair and a man with blue-green eyes and a tattoo wrapped around his skull. They ignored Yugi, speaking to each other in low voices. Yugi noticed the gold ornaments they carried, thrumming with some kind of physical energy. He shivered and drew away. 

“Yugi.” Set motioned him forward and leapt nimbly onto the quay. Yugi followed him a little more cautiously. Others jumped out after them and the boat bobbed on the water. Across the river Yugi could see the Royal Barge advancing. Set muttered something that sounded like a curse. Amused, Yugi raised an eyebrow and the priest raised his gaze briefly to the sky. “There will be a procession, I imagine, into the city and up to the temple. You can meet us at the old fort.” He nodded towards a large enclosure that Yugi could just see at the city’s centre. “The king will spend some time there.”

Sailors and nobles rushed past them, but took a wide berth around Set. “Why Nekhen?” Yugi asked curiously, watching the ships approach. He knew that the city had once been important, and was still a city of Horus. The temple here was one of the oldest in Kemet, but Abdju lay not far from Waset, with a dozen great temples and a necropolis of the old kings. Compared to that city, Nekhen did not seem to be that important. Surely not important enough for the king himself to visit?

The high priest shrugged. “There is not enough time for a long journey before the new year. The river is too low to sail far.” _Then why not stay in Waset?_ Yugi wondered. As the Royal Ship moved closer, Yugi could see the king in its stern, handling the rudder himself. “You had best go now, Yugi. There will be no time to rest when the king calls.” Surprised, Yugi cast him a swift glance, but the priest’s face was blank. Although Set was not cruel, he was certainly not nice, and this looked oddly like an act of kindness. Deciding not to question his luck, Yugi slipped away into the crowd.

Nekhen rose up around him, swallowing him into its embrace. Yugi could see the ancient lines of its structures, traces of the first dynasties, almost two thousand years old. The people wandered about him, ignoring his presence in their city. There were baskets of sweet-smelling food and dyed cloth tucked away down narrow alleys. A leashed baboon gibbered at him as he passed. It felt small. Waset had been huge and even Wetjeset-Hor was bigger than this town. Either that, or Yugi had grown in the last few days. He followed the wide road that led into the city. Yugi caught sight of his reflection in a basket of polished glass and frowned. Every glimpse of his unusual hair reminded him that he was no longer alone. The king now had a claim on his soul. Yugi scowled. He had only seen the king twice, but already he disliked him. Nothing that the king had said or done gave Yugi a reason to believe in him. It didn’t seem as though he cared for anyone but himself. Not even the people who worked so hard to carry out his whims. Suddenly Yugi was glad that he had been given to Set. At least the high priest had never threatened him with his death, and under the High Priest he had seen Waset and had met Jou. His career, too, was set for the rest of his life. To have risen so quickly from scribe to a sandal-bearer for _hm netjer tepy en Amun_ was practically unheard of. Usually only nobles or family would be given such an intimate duty. Yugi wondered if Set was confident in his abilities, or if he was simply trying to keep an eye on him.

A wounded cry rang through the air. Pausing, Yugi glanced ahead, wincing as he heard another. Loud, angry shouting drowned out the sound and he pushed forward until he saw a large merchant standing in the road. He held a long leather whip and gestured wildly at an upturned basket of fine linen that lay scattered over the ground. There was a slight, pale boy cringing under the man’s whip. Locks of white hair fell over his face, but his fear was obvious. Yugi frowned. The merchant drew his arm back to deliver another excruciating lash.

“Stop! _Stop_!” Yugi ran forward, raising his voice over the harbour’s noise. He leapt between the merchant and the boy. “Stop it!” he cried, hands clenched. 

“Get out of my way,” spat the older man. His skin was dark, weathered from the wind and the sun. “This slave has made his last mistake.” Beside him, Yugi the boy shuddered. His back was marked with scars, some recent and others years old.

Yugi drew himself up, cursing his small stature. “You have no right to _whip_ him to death,” he replied heatedly.

“I have every right!” The merchant’s thick fingers tightened around the handle of the whip. It flicked over the ground like a cat’s tail. “He is _my_ slave! His life belongs to _me_! Get out of my way, brat!”

Yugi stood his ground. Around them a crowd had begun to gather, attracted by their shouts. Then an idea occurred to him. “I will buy him,” he shouted out. “I have gold - and you would kill him anyway, why not?” Set had not actually given him anything yet, but he was certain to. Yugi would just request it in advance and trade it for the boy.

“Hah!” The merchant made a hacking sound and spat on the floor by Yugi’s feet. Startled, Yugi stepped back, almost knocking into the slave. That vicious whip dangled from the merchant’s hand. Staring into the man’s white-rimmed eyes, a surge of fear made him tremble. There was uproar around them as people moved and shoved against each other, stepping away from them and huddling against the side of the road. Yugi barely noticed.

“But -” Abruptly Yugi realised he was wearing only his white _shenti_ , which was grubby and frayed from the journey and his trip to Abu. His feet were bare and dusty from his walk. He probably looked more like another slave than Sandal Bearer to the High Priest. _Damn it_. He had no sign or symbol of Set’s that he could use to prove his story. But there was a life at stake, he could not just let this boy be murdered, right in front of him. “But I _can_ \- if you just let me -” 

“Enough!” The merchant was snarling at him now. “I am tired of your stupid prattling! If you will not get out of my way, I’ll go through you.” He flicked his arm and the whip lashed into Yugi’s ribs, brushing away and leaving behind a thin cut and swift flash of pain. Yugi cried out. With a cruel smile, the man raised his arm high and the whip soared back through the air. Yugi threw his arms over his head. He heard the whistling sound as the whip flew towards him. Then there was a sudden crack as it met flesh. Yugi flinched automatically, but he felt no pain. Silence fell around him. Slowly, he lowered his arms.

The king stood before him, one arm raised. The supple leather of the whip was curled around his forearm. He was wearing a _nemes_ headdress and the golden uraeus reared up from his brow, poised as if to spit fire into the eyes of Kemet’s enemies. Gaping, Yugi dropped to his knees, but he could not tear his gaze away. Behind the stupefied merchant he could see Set and a host of royal guards. A procession from the boats - Yugi and the merchant had been standing right in their way. Shame made him creep back and he peered up at the two figures. Fury seethed in the king’s crimson eyes. He yanked on the whip and it came flying into his hand.

“Majesty, I-” The merchant was on his knees, eyes darting from side to side as he wrung his hands. “Forgive me, I did not realise-”

“That much is obvious,” replied the king. He held the whip and flicked it absently from side to side. There was a gleam in his eyes that Yugi did not like. 

“Thank you, Majesty,” he said quietly.

Distracted, the king glanced down. When he saw Yugi kneeling at his feet, he snorted, but his grip on the whip slackened a little. “Do not stand in my way, scribe,” he said, lips curled.

Yugi bowed his head. “Forgive me, my lord.” _What if.._. “I was trying to buy this slave from the man,” he said slowly.

The king glanced at the pale, beaten slave. Yugi had no doubt that he, too, saw the scars. “How noble of you,” he muttered, a sardonic note to his voice. Unnerved, Yugi looked up, but the king’s gaze flickered over him and away. “Very well. Take the boy.”

He blinked. “Majesty?”

A roll of those expressive eyes. “He is yours. Get him out of the road.” Then he turned back to the merchant. “My men will deal with you. The rest of your property is confiscated, in the name of the state.” The whip dropped onto the ground, a puddle of leather, and the king strode back to the procession. Guards hauled the merchant up by his arms and dragged him away. His shocked eyes glared at Yugi as he disappeared into the crowd.

Shivering, Yugi gently coaxed the boy to the side of the road. He crouched there as the procession passed, on its way to the centre of Nekhen. In his royal chair sat the king, ignoring their huddled figures. Set passed them too, but his gaze was dark. Yugi gulped. Gradually the guards and the courtiers vanished into the city. Sighing, Yugi turned to his new slave. The boy sat gingerly investigating his wounds. “Are you all right?” asked Yugi. His hands hovered uncertainly at his sides.

“I’m fine,” the boy replied. He tore a strip of cloth from his wrap and bound a thin gash on his arm. Only when he’d finished did he look up. “My name is Ryou.” Wide brown eyes looked up at him and the boy seemed uncertain. “Thank you. For… what you did.”

Yugi shrugged uncomfortably. “It was nothing.” It had felt like nothing, when he decided to intervene, but he hadn’t quite imagined how it would end. “I am Yugi.” They stared at each other for a moment.

A wry smile tugged at Ryou’s lips. “You’ve never owned a slave, have you?”

“Is it that obvious?” Ryou chuckled and Yugi couldn’t repress a smile. “Well, I suppose you will be my servant?”

“Of course. I owe you my life,” he said, shrugging as though it were a commonplace occurrence.

Yugi winced. He helped the boy to his feet. “Your life certainly does not belong to me, though, understand?” he said firmly. Ryou nodded. He did not seem entirely convinced, but Yugi would not treat this boy as that merchant had done, so callously. He would make sure that Ryou understood.

People had gone back to their duties, but they still cast curious glances down the path that the procession had taken. “Come on,” sighed Yugi. “Set will be waiting for me to bathe his feet.” Keeping a close eye on Ryou, Yugi led them into the centre of the city, following the king’s procession.


	6. Chapter 6

By the time they reached the large, fort-like enclosure in the city, Yugi knew that Ryou had been a slave for most of his life. There was little more that he could get out of the boy, though - he seemed wary of Yugi, and volunteered little. The scribe guessed that his previous masters had not been kind, and resolved to be a friend to the young slave, rather than a master. It wasn’t only for Ryou’s benefit - Yugi felt the absence of friends keenly.

Set was standing at the gate of the building. His arms were crossed over his chest and he looked angry as he watched them approach. Yugi bowed, eyes darting to the side. “This is Ryou, my lord. I - The king gave him to me.”

“I am aware of the fact.” Set’s voice was as irritable as his glare. He stared at Ryou and jerked his head towards the doorway. The slave bowed and walked silently into the building. Yugi opened his mouth to protest, but Set’s eyes warned him against speaking. “You can deal with him later. The king has given orders to set up the Qenbet and will be receiving the people. Tonight there will be tribute and celebration.” By the set of his mouth Yugi could tell how Set felt about that.

“I see,” said Yugi slowly, wondering how exactly he would fit into this.

The priest’s lips drew together in a tight line and his eyes flickered over Yugi’s dishevelled appearance. “Come.” He turned on his heel and strode through the gateway. “The king will expect his court to be in attendance.” Yugi scowled. _Of course he would._

They passed through the halls of the building quietly, wandering past the servants and courtiers who worked around them. In the time that Yugi and Ryou had taken to walk up through the city, the procession had already made itself at home in its halls. There was an air of repressed excitement around the fort, and everyone was moving hurriedly on some unknown tasks of their own. 

In the walls Yugi could see the dark lines that separated each mud brick. Inlaid over them was a mural depicting the Heb Sed festival of an ancient king. The building was old and, although striking, smaller than the Great House at Waset. Next to the sleek red granite and huge stone statues of the Southern City, the enclosure looked worn and ragged. A pair of guards stood beside a great open doorway. They wore the throne name of the king inscribed on their golden armbands, _Akhenre_.

Set stepped into a large, high room. Nobles and courtiers from both Waset and Nekhen lounged along each side. Yugi followed the high priest along one side of the wall, slipping between the idle young aristocrats and the Djed pillars that lined the room. A dais had been erected at the far end of the room, and below it stood a group of men and one woman. Each had a gold object of power. This was the Great Qenbet, formed by the king’s most trusted advisors, called up from Waset. _But why?_ Up on the platform was an ornate golden throne, and in it sat the king. He had discarded his headdress and instead the majestic white crown rose from his brow. From his shoulders hung a broad collar of turquoise and lapis lazuli on a lace pattern of gold. More gold and precious stones dripped from his hands and ears, and he wore wide bands of gold on his arms and around his ankles. His crimson eyes were narrow. _Calculating_ , Yugi thought, and wondered what he saw.

The high priest sat on a stool beside the throne. He glared at the room with dark eyes. Yugi went behind him and knelt there, close enough to hear him call but out of his sight. Men and women began trailing through the centre of the room, bringing with them welcoming gifts of grain, golden jewellery and exotic animals. The king accepted it all with a genial wave, but his expression did not soften. A continuous buzz of conversation filled the room, interrupted now and again with the tinkling sound of the courtiers’ laughter. Around the dais lounged the advisors; watchful, but relaxed. Apparently they were not yet prepared to act as judges.

Servants pushed past him, and Yugi frowned, trying not to get thrust away. Only Set and the king did not eat, everyone else indulged themselves happily. There was something about the poised, tense position of the two leaders that set Yugi on edge. He found himself casting nervous glances towards the shadowed corners of the rooms. Everyone else seemed unaffected, completely at ease under the king’s hawk-like gaze.

Although the Qenbet was ready, there didn’t seem to be anyone coming forward. From his crouched position at the back of the dais Yugi could see the advisors talking quietly to each other. They looked stern, and the tattooed man cast fierce glances at the courtiers. 

“No one seems to need justice today, Set,” murmured the king, as if he had read Yugi’s mind.

“Mm,” agreed the priest. “I suppose that _ma’at_ is indeed upheld at Nekhen.”

“So it would appear.” Keeping his head bowed, Yugi watched the king’s long fingers tap at the arm of his throne. “Any excuse for a feast,” he added.

“I’m sure their motives are pure,” replied Set quietly.

“We shall see.” The king made a graceful gesture with his right hand and the slaves scampered to obey him, plying him with refreshments.

Suddenly a slave approached Set with a full cup, and Yugi leapt up to intercept him. He understood his role well enough to know that it was his duty to serve the high priest, and his alone. Yugi took the wine and crept up to the high priest’s chair. Set glanced at him, irritation and what Yugi thought might be approval in his expression. He took the wine with a small nod, and Yugi slid back to his own position.

The movement must have caught the king’s eye, because he turned towards Set’s chair and eyed Yugi, his gaze sweeping over the scribe. “I see you still have the boy with you,” he said, arching an eyebrow.

The high priest glared out at the room. “Of course. I believe my orders were to keep an _eye_ on him.”

His majesty’s lips curled into a smirk. “Oh, _two_ eyes would be more than adequate.” He glanced again at Yugi. “And how _is_ the boy doing? Replaced your cup bearer, has he?”

Set inclined his head, and Yugi saw him hide a smirk behind the lip of the cup. “My Sandal Bearer, in fact. I thought it would be appropriate to keep him as close as possible, especially in such circumstances as these,” and he gestured at the court.

The king’s mouth twisted a little. “How prudent of you.”

“Your Sandal Bearer is not here?” asked Set innocently.

The king shrugged one shoulder. “I believe he is still in Waset.” Set snorted and the other man threw a glinting smile at him. “I’m sure you wouldn’t mind lending your boy to me for an evening, High Priest?” Yugi froze. A new tension filled the air. The pyramid still dangled from the king’s neck and, although he could see no shadows, Yugi eyed it with trepidation. There was some kind of leashed ferocity about the king that made him nervous, like a lion stretching its limbs in preparation for the hunt. Yugi waited with bated breath, and after a minute Set inclined his head.

“Of course, nsw,” he said, and Yugi wondered if he was thinking, _how can I do any different?_

“Excellent,” purred the king, sitting back in his golden chair. “Then we’ll… _share_ him, for tonight, shall we?” Another glance at Set, dangerously amused. The high priest sent him a frown and gestured Yugi forward.

Hesitantly Yugi came to stand between them, his head bowed and his eyes carefully averted. “The king desires some refreshment,” Set said, and added in an undertone, “ _most speedily_.” When Yugi looked up, Set’s blue eyes were alight with some kind of warning - to be quick? He nodded, muttering a quiet acknowledgement, and tucked the thought away to examine later.

Other servants were close, so Yugi stole some wine from them, as well as a sizzling portion of quail. He offered the quail first, but the king waved it away, so Yugi gave him the wine. The king accepted the cup gracefully. Those enigmatic eyes met his for a moment and Yugi slunk back. He knelt at the side of the throne, his eyes on the floor. He was stingingly aware of the king’s gaze.

“How is he performing, then, as your Sandal Bearer?” the king asked. 

“Tolerably.” Set’s deep voice was warmed with a kind of sadistic amusement that Yugi didn’t quite understand. “Although he is a slow learner.” Yugi stiffened, outraged.

“I think he would disagree.” Immediately Yugi shivered and tried to shrink in on himself, unnerved by the king’s quick eyes. “Will you bring him to the new year ceremony, priest?”

“I haven’t decided.” There was a slight pause and Yugi glanced up to see Set drain his cup. The high priest dangled it in the air by his seat expectantly. Yugi got up quickly and took it from him. This time the king seemed distracted and turned his head away. Yugi settled on his heels and tilted his head to watch them.

The king was examining the guests from half-lidded eyes. “They assembled this… festivity,” he murmured, with an oblique wave encompassing the entire room, “remarkably quickly, given the unexpectedness of my visit.”

“Their scouts must have been fast to have conveyed the message before our arrival,” replied Set, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Undoubtedly.” The king’s expression was fixed and Yugi listened to their languid conversation curiously. “Did you see the General at Abu?” asked the king after a small pause. The priest’s vibrant blue eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared. A slight inclination of his head was Set’s answer. “And?” prompted the king.

“Everything is in order, Your Majesty. All divisions will be ready to move at your command.”

“I am pleased to hear it.” The Living Horus clasped his hands together. “I imagine the General is eager to see Waset again.” The statement was a leading one, but Set didn’t answer. “I have heard very little of the White-Walled City,” he said a moment later, and Yugi found himself bemused at the quick change of topic.

“Inebu-Hedju is performing well under its duties,” muttered Set. He was twisting the golden ring on his finger again. Yugi shifted, his legs protesting at his prolonged immobility. As exciting as serving the king sounded, this conversation was making him yearn for an untarnished copy of _The Shipwrecked Sailor_ he could lose himself in, or a decent game of _senet. Shouldn’t the life of the king be more interesting than this?_

“The governor of its sepat has recently been installed in Waset, I hear.”

Set turned to face him with arched eyebrows. “You weren’t aware?” At that Yugi looked up. _Interesting - something the king doesn’t know?_

The man shook his head. “He was appointed by Siamon, not myself.”

“Ah,” acknowledged Set. “From what my servants tell me, he is an efficient man, if a little ruthless. There will be no fear of him lining his own pockets.”

“It is not that which concerns me,” answered the king, his tone sharp. After that the two men lapsed into silence. Neither sought his services again, so Yugi knelt on the cold floor of the dais. He opened his eyes wide and tried to make a note of everything that he saw. Judging by the astute nature of this king, he’d need all his wits about him, and the more knowledge he had, the better.


	7. Chapter 7

In the cool halls of the Nekhen fort the shadows seemed to grow forever. Yugi stood by a _djed_ pillar in an eastern passage, gazing at an old wall painting. Amun sat on the right hand side, tall and dignified. His skin was the blue of lapis lazuli and the two plumes of his feathered crown stretched towards the ceiling. Opposite stood a king holding the feather of _ma’at_ , flanked by Horus and Isis. The images were still and silent, frozen in time. If he stared at it long enough, Yugi fancied he could see the lines dance before his eyes.

“Yugi.” The sound of his name echoed along the quiet corridor. Yugi turned, smiling as he saw Ryou. The slave was still wearing the strap of cloth around his arm, but he looked calmer.

“Ryou.” Yugi stepped forward to meet him. “Is everything all right?” he asked, hesitating.

Wisps of pale hair fluttered across the slave’s face as he dipped his head. His expression was uncertain. “I’m… I think so, my lord, but…”

As he paused Yugi shook his head. “None of that,” he said, keeping his tone light. “Just call me Yugi. Anything like _my lord_ just reminds me of - of Set,” he added, aware that it wasn’t the austerity of the High Priest who was first in his mind. “What’s wrong?”

“There’s - that is, I’ve been helping the other slaves with the arrangements for the court.” Here he paused again, waiting to see if the scribe would rebuke him, but Yugi remained silent. “They were talking about - well, rumours, mostly, but they said that a dangerous thief had been in Nekhen. A tomb robber.”

Yugi stiffened. “A tomb robber?” Surprise ebbed quickly into realisation, and he frowned. _Perhaps_ that _is why we came to Nekhen. But why is a tomb robber so important?_ Ryou still looked apprehensive. “I’m sure it’s nothing,” he murmured, reflecting on the king’s obscure conversation the other night. “In fact, I expect the king already knows.”

Ryou’s fine eyebrows creased into a frown. “Then he doesn’t seem to be prepared. There are only enough guards to protect him and his advisors - why didn’t he bring soldiers?”

Yugi shrugged. “I have no idea. Maybe he wants to lure him out? Who knows?” They shared a bemused smile.

“He is a bit… unpredictable,” offered Ryou tentatively.

“I think that’s the polite way of putting it.” Yugi’s smile firmed. “I haven’t met anyone yet who actually seems to know what’s going on,” he confided.

His open behaviour seemed to put the other boy at ease, and Ryou relaxed a fraction. “Neither have I,” admitted the slave. “Everyone is very… polite,” he added, with a twinkle in his eye. Yugi laughed. Smiling, Ryou asked if he wanted anything. Yugi declined and began walking with him back towards the central rooms of the fort.

Yugi kept up a light stream of chatter as they strolled back. Ryou listened attentively and gave small, quiet answers. Very rarely did he advance his own opinions. Yugi set himself the task of drawing them out, and he couldn’t help but watch the slave curiously. Ryou was quiet and gentle, but he had an implacable air that seemed unassailable. Any question Yugi asked that even bordered on personal was turned away with an evasive answer and a shrug of those pretty shoulders. Sometimes he thought it might be fear that made him so reticent, but in pure daylight he could dismiss his concerns more lightly. One thing was certain - Ryou did not want to talk about his past.

Brushing a lock of golden hair behind his ear, Yugi hoped he hadn’t given the impression that he criticized Ryou. Anything the slave may or may not have done in the past was none of Yugi’s concern. The scribe couldn’t imagine finding himself in a similar situation, without family or friends to turn to. He didn’t know what he would do if ever did.

Even in Waset, one of the most diverse cities in Kemet, Ryou’s pale colouring was abnormal. Hair that light could never have been caused by the sun - it had to be some kind of regional trait. Not for the first time, Yugi thought about asking Ryou directly. Ryou might not be able to refuse a question so direct it bordered on command. Toying with the idea for a moment, he let it go. He couldn’t force a confidence. When Ryou was comfortable enough to trust him, he would talk.

A servant boy darted into view in front of them and Yugi shook away his thoughts. The boy dropped into a quick bow. “The High Priest of Amun-Re sends a message,” he said quickly, stumbling a little over Set’s full title. Briefly, Yugi wondered if Set had included the god’s amalgamated name deliberately, as a cutting reminder of his power.

“Yes?” he asked. When they’d parted this morning, Set had told him that he’d be assisting in the temple of Horus all day and would see him tonight at another communal meal. This was much sooner than that.

The messenger bowed again, a sharp, jerky movement. “The High Priest says that the Southern division has been recalled to Waset for the new year. The king and his party will depart immediately.” He waited only for Yugi’s acknowledgement before flitting back off into the shadows.

“It looks as though our journey’s over,” he said, casting an exasperated glance at Ryou, who smiled. Again Yugi’s mind flickered to the king. He hadn’t been seen since the first night, cloistered up with his advisors, and Yugi wondered now why the army had been summoned back so quickly. He felt like he’d stepped into a game of _senet_ , but instead of acting as a player, he was one of the pieces.

Only the king had all the answers.

_x_

At the bank of the river the grass was luxuriant, reaching nearly to Yugi’s knees. Across it Yugi saw a kingfisher hovering over the water. As he watched, it dove into the river and soared out again, a small fish dangling from its beak. At the quay, one of the boats was drifting away to Waset, and another was being loaded. The king’s ship was still docked.

“We’re returning quickly,” murmured Ryou beside him.

“The king wants to be back for the new year,” he guessed, wondering if it was the great walled city on the edge of the river that called the king home.

“Look,” said Ryou suddenly, pointing over the bank. Obediently Yugi turned. Small bubbles popped on the surface of the water. He frowned. “Hippos,” Ryou whispered, watching the water with a faint smile.

“I’ve never seen one,” Yugi said, but the sight of the bubbles sent a shiver down his spine. Although he knew they looked friendly, hippos were notorious for their vicious temper and violent attacks. The water rippled and Yugi saw the animal’s curved snout bump the surface. After a few minutes the animal disappeared beneath the water again. Yugi moved further along the bank, and a blue lotus flower caught his eye, blown onto the verge from the river. Its petals were still half open, interrupted in its morning salute to the sun.

“A lotus.” Ryou’s voice was surprised and he touched the flower gently. His movements were always graceful, with an edge that compelled attention. “They’re not as common in _Ta-Mehu_ , where the papyrus grows,” he said quietly. “They open and close with the sun, don’t they?”

“Yes,” replied Yugi, smiling. He handed the flower to Ryou. “At night it sinks below the surface of the water, hidden, and blooms again in the morning.” The petals were deep blue, almost purple, and the centre was bright, sunshine yellow. It was a beautiful, cheerful flower. Yugi looked at the river, where there were more scattered among the reeds. “The white ones open at night and close in the morning.” They gave off a faded scent, sweet and heady. In the ceremonial duties of the priests, Yugi had heard that they used the sacred lotus as a drug. Maybe it lifted them closer to the gods.

“It’s lovely,” said Ryou. The blue brought out lavender tints in the boy’s hair, so Yugi stole it back, grinning, and fixed it behind his ear. He laughed when Ryou made a face.

“It suits you,” he said, chuckling.

Grimacing, Ryou untangled the lotus from his hair. He glanced diffidently at Yugi and cautiously tucked it into the wild tangle of Yugi’s hair. Yugi rolled his eyes but permitted it with a gusty sigh. “It looks better on you,” the slave said and smirked.

“I doubt it,” laughed Yugi. “But my hair’s so black it almost _looks_ like the same colour.” He touched the flower and a few petals came away in his hand. Sighing, he took it off, seeing it wilt further. Without its roots and the life-giving breath of water, it had died in the heat.

The ground grew firm beneath his feet and Yugi looked up to see the jetty. He tossed the lotus aside. There were a number of people still on the bank, but the boat was preparing to cast off. Set’s boat was moored behind it. The High Priest himself, however, was nowhere in sight.

Ryou stepped up and sketched a quick bow. “I will help the slaves prepare your boat, my l - Yugi,” he corrected as the scribe frowned.

“Thank you,” replied Yugi with a small smile. He watched Ryou disappear into the crowd, vanishing easily despite his unusual hair.

Yugi stood at the side of the quay, feeling a little like a spare wheel. Most people seemed to be content just to watch the ships depart, so Yugi followed their gaze to see the second ship cast off. A flash of darkness made him blink.

Standing quite close to him was a tall man in a plain wrap. He had dark hair and dark eyes - altogether unremarkable. Yugi stared at him for a moment, wondering what had caught his eye. Suddenly a dark shadow curved around the man’s body. It was tinged with rancid green. Yugi’s eyes widened. The gloomy shade curled up over the man’s tanned arm and disappeared behind his head. As if feeling his gaze the man turned to look at him.

A sharp scream rang through the air. Yugi’s head swung round to see fire erupt on the second boat. Chaos surged through the crowd and Yugi was buffeted from all sides. Scarlet flames licked at the canopy and the papyrus that caulked the hull. On deck the sailors tossed buckets of water at the fire and shouted orders.

Struggling to stand still amidst the confusion, Yugi whipped round. The man he’d seen was running away down a crooked alley. _He must have caused the fire._ Yugi dodged the crowd and sprinted after him. He hurtled into the alley, catching the palm of his hand on a rough stone building. At the other end the figure turned down a side street. Hastily Yugi leapt over the littered debris of the alley. His feet pounded against the ground and it wasn’t long before his breath started rasping in his throat. The man fled and Yugi followed him doggedly, twisting through the streets.

Ahead the stranger upturned a basket of carved limestone statuettes. They clattered over the ground and Yugi stumbled. Panting, Yugi kicked them away and turned a corner.

Hands seized him and shoved him against the wall. The dark-haired man loomed over him, his expression livid. “You’re too slow to play games with me, boy,” he hissed, wrapping a long hand around his neck. 

Yugi choked. “I’m not - why were you running?” he gasped, struggling against the iron hold.

“None of your damned business!” the man spat back. The hand tightened around his neck. Yugi felt his pulse thrumming against the remorseless grip.

“Sahb!” Yugi rolled his eyes towards the other end of the street. Another man stood there, his dark eyes narrow and a scowl on his face. “Forget it, we have to get moving.” Snarling, the man - Sahb - yanked Yugi away from the wall and flung him to the ground. Yugi hit the earth with a shocked cry as pain shot up his arm. He scrabbled to his feet, but by the time he looked up, the men had gone.


	8. Chapter 8

Yugi had never been so thankful to stand on dry land. The sun was just setting, plunging into the netherworld to make its night time journey. Sighing, Yugi reached his arms over his head and stretched out the kinks in his back. Set stood a short distance away on the road, waiting for the king’s ship to dock. Waset looked the same as it had when he’d left. Ryou stood beside him, brown eyes wide as he stared up at the walls of the city.

Smiling a little, Yugi glanced across the river. Beyond the green bank he could just see the tawny line of the desert and _Ta-dehent_ , the great peak that hid _Ta-sekhet-ma’at_. A chill swept through him and, despite the warmth of the day, Yugi felt a chill. For a moment he couldn’t tear his eyes away from that shadowed peak and the dead, cold tombs that lay beneath it.

Shaking himself, Yugi tried to dismiss his sudden unease. In the full light of the summer day his apprehension seemed silly. He turned to watch the ship docking, and his eyes fell on Set. Yugi worried at his lip, teeth denting the flesh. He’d told Set about the fire and the two men that he’d chased, but Set had merely shrugged a shoulder and made some cryptic comment about the gods.

Some strange sense of guilt still nagged at him. Yugi’s thoughts flickered back to that moment on the waterfront. The image was clear and precise in his mind. A strong cord of black-green… _something_ had moved around the dark-haired man. Even re-living the memory, he knew that he’d definitely seen it; it hadn’t been some twisted illusion. He hadn’t told Set about _that_. Yugi’s fingers tightened on his _shenti_. He remembered kneeling in the hall of the king that first time, the shadows of the ruler’s pyramid. Then he’d thought it a simple trick of the light. Now he wasn’t so sure. 

“Well,” came a sudden, familiar voice. Startled, Yugi whirled around. Jou was marching up to him, wide grin stretching over his tanned face. “ _Now_ I’m surprised.”

“Jou!” From the corner of his eyes Yugi saw the high priest jerk. Yugi smiled at Jou as his friend stopped beside him. The presence of the golden-haired soldier made him stand a little straighter. “What are you doing here?”

Jou ran a hand through his hair and beamed at him, but Yugi noticed the exhaustion lingering on the edges of his smile. The general’s _shenti_ was dusty and his skin was dirty and sweaty. He looked like he’d just come from a fight. Or a very long journey. “Called back for the new year,” Jou said, evidently pleased to be back.

“It’s good to see you again,” murmured Yugi, but he was wondering why Jou had sped back to the city without even pausing to change his clothes. He suddenly became aware of Ryou at his side. “This is Ryou, my… my, uh, slave.” He couldn’t stop a blush from heating his cheekbones.

Jou’s eyebrows rose in incredulous surprise. “You? A _slave_?” He eyed Ryou. “Huh. How in Seth’s name did y’ manage to pick _him_ up as a master?” he said, jerking a thumb at Yugi. Ryou gave a tiny smile, but he was tugging at the long strands of his hair with white knuckles. He said nothing, and Yugi filled in the silence with an abbreviated account of what had happened at Nekhen. Jou shook his head, smiling a little but frowning at the same time. “Figures you’d try an’ bite off more than you can chew. What were you thinking, Yug’? Don’ you know how dangerous it is to interfere with something like that?” he said, but then laughed. “Guess you really haven’t changed.”

“Why would I?” asked Yugi. It hadn’t been _that_ long since Jou had left.

The soldier shrugged. “This place has a way of changing people.”

“Unfortunately not you,” said Set, still facing the river.

Jou bristled. “Luckily for _some_ people, or Yugi here would be the one pulling your head out of your own ass.”

“Some dogs obviously can’t be taught _any_ tricks.”

“Hey! What’d you call me?”

“You heard,” replied Set coldly, but a tiny smirk was curling his lips.

“Why you -”

“Children,” said an amused voice, and Yugi turned quickly to see the king striding towards them. He scuttled out of the way and dropped to his knees. Ryou followed him, melting into the background. The sovereign came straight up to them, ignoring their bows. He greeted Jou with a casual smile.

The general dipped his head in a brief salute. “ _Per-a’ah_. Life, protection, health.”

The king acknowledged his words with a slight, dismissive gesture. “I see you’ve returned. My army?”

“Is encamped within the city at the moment,” replied Jou, and Yugi noticed that his voice was carefully smooth. “They await your orders, but are eager to greet the _Wep-renpet_.”

“Eager to spend it drinking themselves unconscious,” added Set sardonically.

“Better than what the priests do for fun, I bet,” muttered Jou.

“Unlikely. We keep our dignity intact. It’s the dogs that crawl.”

“Jou is my Right Hand,” said the king in quelling tones. Jou preened and cast a scornful glance at Set. “And Set is my Left,” the king added, and the priest’s look was triumphant.

_Right Hand?_ thought Yugi in disbelief. _The Right Hand of Atemu himself?_ The sound of the king’s name - even in his thoughts - made him cringe, and he suddenly felt as if he’d done something wrong. The other men didn’t seem to notice.

“Sopdet rises before Ra,” Set informed the king. “The waters will rise soon.”

“Very well.” A warm breeze tousled the king’s hair, a red so dark it looked black, shot through with gold. His thin lips tightened. “I shall begin the ceremony at dawn. Kemet will spend these next ten days in celebration.” With a sharp nod the king walked past them and disappeared into a throng of bodyguards.

“Finally,” moaned Jou, a wide yawn stretching his words. “We can relax. A week of festivals!”

“As if you do anything but relax the rest of the year anyway,” Set commented snidely. 

“Like it’s hard to walk around in animal skins, prayin’. I could do that with my eyes closed.” Beside Yugi Ryou chuckled. The two men started off after the king, bickering.

Yugi rose to his feet and brushed dirt off his knees. The pale-haired slave waited silently for his order. “All right,” Yugi sighed, adjusting the strap of his sandal. “We’d better go after them,” he said, and they, too, followed the king into the City of a Hundred Gates.

_x_

It was not yet dawn, but the atmosphere was tense with anticipation. Everyone in Waset stood gathered on the bank of the river, waiting above the stone steps that led into the water. The brilliant star Sopdet glittered above their heads.

Yugi stood behind Set, fidgeting as the tangible sense of expectation began to get under his skin. Hushed murmurs came from the crowd. Most of the city’s nobles had come decked out in all their finery. After the king had ushered in _Wep-renpet_ , there would be feasting and gifts. From their muted voices Yugi could tell that they were impatient for the celebrating to begin.

A golden chair had been brought to the highest point of the bank. On it sat the king, and beside him stood Jou, with Set and Siamon on the man’s other side. The king held both the ceremonial crook and flail, and was wearing the double crown of _Ta-Shema_ and _Ta-Mehu_. It was the first time that Yugi had seen it, and he had to admit that the red and white crowns looked stunning on the king’s dark hair and golden locks.

The high priest was carrying a gold rod which had two triangular wings on each side. Yugi didn’t like to look at it for too long. Set turned and said something soft to Siamon that Yugi couldn’t catch. The vizier nodded his shaggy grey head. Yugi eyed the old man for a moment. The king Neferkare had once ruled for nearly ninety four years, but Yugi had never seen anyone that old. Siamon was one of the most powerful men in Kemet, but, with his wild hair and large, gentle eyes, he looked nothing like it.

Both Set and Siamon levelled a glance at the golden chair and the king clapped his hands together. Immediately, silence fell over the crowd. When he had their undivided attention, the king began to speak. His voice was low, but carried across the large space clearly. Yugi recognised the words as a divine entreaty to Hapy, god of the inundation, and of course to Amun. Closing his eyes, Yugi let the words wash over him. The king’s accent was strange. With a slight jolt, Yugi realised he was hearing the Old Language; the language of the pyramids and the first kings.

After a while the king’s voice died, and Yugi opened his eyes. The crowd was focussed on the horizon, holding their breaths in nervous silence. Then a sudden shaft of light speared across the eastern sky. In a very short time the edge of the Aten could be seen, creeping up from the desert. Finally it hopped into the sky and a cheer went up from the throng. Although it was quiet around the king’s chair, Yugi could feel a wide grin stretching over his face. The enthusiasm of Waset’s greeting was infectious, and he wanted to laugh and join with the celebration. Below him a group of girls were pelting each other with lotus blossoms and giggling. The king watched them, a small smile tugging at his lips. Even Set didn’t look quite so stern in the light of the first dawn of the year. 

The morning air was cool, invigorating, and Yugi relished the feeling. Despite the way the rest of the gathering were indulging themselves, none of the men by the king had yet asked for any refreshments, so when Set gestured at him it caught Yugi by surprise. He stole a mug of cool beer from an attendant and brought it swiftly to Set’s hand. The high priest nodded his thanks. Standing out front, Yugi felt exposed. He didn’t have the tall form of the priest to hide behind, and he stiffened as the king turned towards him.

Crimson eyes swept over his body in a way that made Yugi feel unnerved and vulnerable. The king’s chiselled features were thoughtful. Yugi quickly retreated back to his station, wishing he could serve the high priest without coming into contact with the king. From the other side of the chair a young, slender servant shot him an unreadable look, his expression shuttered.

“I take it you will be returning to the temple for the festivals?” asked the king suddenly, bending his head towards Set. 

The high priest cast him a quizzical glance. “Of course. There are many things that I need to oversee for this new year.”

A slow nod. “Then you won’t be needing your Sandal-Bearer in the inner sanctum.” Yugi felt his breath catch. Jou looked over, frowning.

It was a few minutes before the priest spoke. “No, I suppose I would not.” Yugi threw him a desperate, pleading glance. Set’s face was unfathomable, but Yugi thought there might be regret in his eyes.

“I think that he would do well in my service, where _I_ can keep an eye on him.” Another speculative glance at Yugi.

“… And your current Bearer?” asked Set slowly. Next to Yugi the young servant clenched his hands together.

The king lifted one shoulder in a graceful shrug. “I’m sure I can find a use for him.” Jou moved and looked as if he would speak, but instead he closed his lips tightly and turned his face away. Stunned, Yugi sat back on his heels.

“As you wish, _hm’i_ ,” murmured the priest, and Yugi had to blink rapidly to stave off an embarrassing wetness in his eyes. He’d been cast off at one word of the Living Horus, by both the high priest and his friend Jou. Suddenly Yugi felt quite alone.

The king did not look at him again.


	9. Chapter 9

Despite the fact that the whole of Kemet had plunged happily into festivity, the king remained focussed on his work. Immediately after the ritual, the advisors had steered the king back into the palace, and Yugi had been swept along with them. Before he knew it his rooms had been re-allocated, his possessions (as few as they were) moved and his duties reordered. By the end of the day he felt bewildered and completely unbalanced.

Yugi looked ahead, to where the figure of the king was walking beside another official. Atemu had effectively removed him from the priest’s service and somehow attached him to the rest of his royal train. The High Priest had gone back to his temple. Yugi had been left to watch him ride away, feeling like he’d lost someone who could have been a good friend.

_{Set rested one hand on his hip, glowering at nothing in particular. Behind him the horses were stamping irritably and chomping their bits. The slave that held them waited, his face averted._

_“Your clothes and spare scribal palettes have been transferred to quarters on the southern side of the palace.” Set was scanning the large gates as if looking for something._

_Yugi had his arms crossed and gripped his elbows tightly. “Thank you.” He tried to mean the words, but he couldn’t rustle up enough emotion. The minute he’d begun to settle into his new role, the game had changed again and he was back at square one._

_The priest nodded briskly. He seemed uneasy, and Yugi could well imagine that this was the last place he wanted to be. “I should be back in no more than… thirty days.”_

_“Alright,” Yugi said after a moment, but he thought morosely that it wouldn’t make a difference._

_Another sharp nod from Set. “Make sure that you serve the king to the best of your ability,” he added, a caution - a threat? - in his words. “That is highly important. Nothing else should occupy your mind but the king’s attitude.”_

__Can I do anything else? _thought Yugi with a touch of irony. “As you say,” he said, bowing his head. There was a curious heaviness pulling at his body. While Set was here, giving Yugi orders and making his decisions for him, he’d felt… safe. Protected. Now, he had no one._

_Set rubbed a hand over his bare head, then stopped quickly. “Good.” He spun around without saying anything else, and in a few minutes he’d mounted his horse. The servant followed him, and together they rode through the empty gates without once looking back.}_

Ahead of him the procession was slowing. Yugi pushed the memory away. The king and the _imi-ra_ went on into a large, open room and Yugi crept in after them. It was the same throne room in which Yugi had first seen the king. This time they had come in through a small door at the back, on one side of the dais. The gold and granite throne sat there, flanked by slender, red-flecked pillars. Stretching out before it lay the hall, big enough for a thousand people. A faint scent wafted through the room; baked bread and honey.

The king went straight to his throne, leaving the administrator who had accompanied him to flounder for a few minutes in stuttering silence. Yugi stepped up behind the throne and stood nestled against one of the pillars. There was a boy there already, the young servant that he’d seen at the new year ritual. At this distance Yugi could see his eyes, a light, green-grey colour. They glared at Yugi. Shivering, the scribe turned his shoulder. _By Amun, I hope I’ll live to see tomorrow,_ he thought, wide-eyed.

There was a heady thrum of power in the room that felt oddly familiar. Yugi peered round the side of the throne. Among the people there he saw the familiar face of Mahaad, a gold ring dangling from his neck. There too he saw the tall woman, wearing a circlet around her neck engraved with the eye of Horus. Another man stood nearby, with a dark wig and a pair of gold scales. _There are two more missing,_ noted Yugi curiously. Apart from Set, the tattooed man with the key was gone, and so too was the older, cloaked figure who he’d seen in Nekhen. At the edge of the room were two court scribes sketching hieratic onto wax tablets. Yugi wished he could join them. As a Sandal-Bearer he had an enviable position, but his training as a scribe was going to waste. He missed it.

The king settled into his wide throne and curled his fingers in an implicit command. At once Yugi stepped forward, but suddenly a sharp elbow dug into his ribs and thrust him away. Grunting, Yugi took refuge behind the pillar again. The other servant - _the king’s other Sandal-Bearer,_ he realised - was already standing in place at Atemu’s side. His light-coloured eyes threw Yugi a victorious glance. The scribe shook his head, feeling the strands of his hair glide smoothly against his cheekbones (there was just no escaping this king). A soft murmur of voices from the advisors stopped him from speaking, and the boy returned to his place with a smirk.

Siamon appeared at the foot of the dais. He nodded a greeting to the king but remained silent. It was Wig-man who spoke first. “ _Nsw-bity_. The festivities are going well,” he said, voice melodious and pleasing. “Waset is enjoying the feast, and depleting our grain stores quite quickly.” A friendly smile took the bite out of his words. He had broad shoulders and wore a large golden wristband.

“Thank you, Karim,” answered the king, one hand under his chin. “Perhaps I should have them build me a pyramid, to keep them occupied.” Light chuckles reverberated through the room. Yugi felt surprise and tried to hide it. Although the king’s words sounded harsh to him, no one else here seemed to be taking him seriously. He touched the rough stone of the pillar, frowning a little as he watched.

On the other side of the room the woman stirred. “My lord,” she said, tossing back her dark mane. Compared to the relaxed postures of the two men, she was still and serene, quite beautiful. “The governor of the third _sepat_ came to beg an audience today. There were representatives from some of the other districts with him.”

“Oh?” asked the king. 

“Indeed. They were quite insistent on speaking, even at this time.”

“Isis,” warned the Living Horus. “The point?”

She inclined her head. “They wished to draw attention to the threat of the Sand-dwellers, _nsw_. They seemed to feel that…” She paused for a moment and Yugi noticed that, even if she felt it, she didn’t let any unease show. “That the rebels should be quelled, as Kush has been.”

_Rebels?_ Yugi glanced quickly at the king. He was leaning back in his seat, a small smile playing at his mouth. “The rebels are no threat.” He drank deeply from his cup. “This season is more important than some phantom danger. You may tell the governor to come again once the river’s waters have receded.” Isis bowed her head.

“If you think it wise, my lord.” There was a subtle rebuke in her voice and Yugi tensed.

“His Majesty’s decisions are always wise, Isis,” replied the man called Karim.

Isis arched an elegant eyebrow at him. “Indeed? I only wish to assure myself that his first priority is to the people of Kemet.”

“His Majesty will always hold the people first,” snapped Karim. His fingers clenched around the scales. Yugi winced as he sensed the power hidden there, like a heavy pressure against his ears and the back of his head.

Mahaad laughed and the tension was broken. “Of course he does. Lord Atemu cares only for the people. Isis knows that as well as anyone else.” The king smirked, apparently indifferent to their familiarity. “There are also traders from _A’amu_ ,” added Mahaad, looking up at the throne. “They mentioned the possibility of negotiations between you, my lord, and their own king.”

At once the king’s brows rose. His voice when he spoke was a slow, casual drawl, and Yugi shivered. He thought that he was beginning to understand this king, and the calmer he seemed, the more nervous Yugi felt. “Negotiating? I wonder what they could possibly have that we would want?” he murmured. “If they are so attached to this notion, they can send their prince to me personally.” A dark grin curled his lips. Yugi didn’t like it. “Then we shall see how well they _negotiate_.” He rested his hands on the arms of his throne, and his mood changed again, grew colder. “For now, let the city rejoice.” He waved the three advisors aside.

Each of them bowed respectfully and retreated. The king leant back, ready to be entertained. Musicians entered the room, and a few dancers filled the empty space below the dais. The king watched them, and the advisors stood at the side, talking quietly amongst themselves.

Yugi became aware of the other Sandal-Bearer at his elbow. He looked over warily. The boy’s expression had calmed. “My name’s Merwt’i,” he said softly.

“I’m Yugi.” _His name is a derivative of ‘love’,_ he thought. _Surely that’s a good omen?_

“I thought you’d asked the High Priest for this job,” he whispered, pressing closer to Yugi and the pillar. “But you don’t look like you really want to be here.”

Shrugging, Yugi shook his head. “Not really,” he whispered, keeping one eye on that distinctive crown of hair. Music from the flutes and drums obscured their voices, and as he watched Siamon approached the king and they began to speak in low voices. “I was a scribe. I just sort of… ended up here.”

“Oh.” Those lighter eyes were as smooth as glass and Yugi couldn’t read them. “I see,” he said.

“It was…” Yugi sighed, gesturing to his oddly-coloured hair, gold and blue-black. “It just happened so fast…”

“Ah, I understand,” the boy whispered back, nodding. “I’m sure you’ll be…” He cast a fearful glance at the back of the throne. “I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

Yugi felt a stirring of unease. “What - what do you mean?”

“Well…” Merwt’i hugged himself. “I’m not sure I should say anything…”

“Please tell me,” said Yugi, alarmed. He took a half-step closer and touched the boy’s arm. “What is it?”

“It’s…” His voice dropped even lower. “I haven’t been a Sandal Bearer very long…” Yugi nodded impatiently. “But everyone says He-” there was no need to ask who _He_ was, “only chooses servants to - to sacrifice them.”

Yugi slapped a hand over his mouth to stop a loud gasp escape. _Sacrifice them?!_ “You - you can’t be serious?!” he hissed.

Merwt’i shook his head and looked miserable. “That’s what all the slaves are saying. I’ve been so scared, trying not to make a mistake, but he hasn’t paid much attention to me yet.” He shrugged. “I don’t know if it’s true - wouldn’t someone have noticed?”

A cold sense of dread bled down his spine. Yugi thought of Jou’s apprehension at the king’s decision to take him on as a servant, and Set’s cryptic wish for the king to forget him. Now it didn’t seem so odd. “Oh gods,” he whispered, his eyes inevitably drawn to that cool, regal character. _Is that why he didn’t kill me? So I could become some kind of… of sacrifice?!_ “But - but why?”

“I don’t know,” moaned the other Sandal-Bearer. “It’s so barbaric! I just don’t _understand_ it!”

“We should stick together,” Yugi murmured, although he could barely think straight, his thoughts were whirling so swiftly through his head.

“Yes,” said Merwt’i, nodding eagerly. “Definitely. Maybe it’s better that there’re two of us, then we don’t need to be alone with - with Him.”

Swallowing, Yugi mumbled agreement. He and Ryou had been installed in quarters close to the king’s, separated only by a few rooms. _What am I going to do?_ Suddenly Siamon lifted his head. His quick conversation with the king was over. Merwt’i slunk back over to the other side of the dais. Yugi gripped the column, and realised he was trembling. Sternly he ordered himself to be calm. There was absolutely no point giving in to fear. He needed to keep his wits about him.

“We shall convene the Great Qenbet within the next twenty days.” The vizier’s voice carried over the music and the spinning dancers. 

The three officials came forward. “After the merriment is over,” said Mahaad, matter-of-fact. “Or you’ll get no sense out of anyone, noble or peasant.”

Isis laughed, a gentle, tinkling sound. “Or your advisors!”

Mahaad merely bowed to the king. “I shall endeavour to remain coherent for the Qenbet,” he said, a twinkle in his eyes.

“Only the Qenbet?” replied the king.

“I make no promises,” Mahaad said solemnly and the three laughed.

“Both Shada and Akhenaden should have returned from Nekhen by that time,” mused Karim. The straight locks of his wig swung as he turned.

“…Perhaps,” answered the king lightly. “For now, you should join the rest of Waset.”

They brightened at that. “Certainly, my lord.”

“We have no compunction obeying you on that note,” smiled Isis. The three advisors left Atemu with his guards. The king spent the rest of the afternoon watching his dancers, and Yugi spent it in unquenchable fear, jumping at every shadow.


	10. Chapter 10

  
Interlude

_The Thief and the Slave_

x

Amid the cacophony of noise that penetrated the streets of Waset, Ryou could pick out the lighter accents of traders along the river. Farmers walked through the smaller streets, taking on other jobs while the river was high. He picked his way through the narrow alleys until he came back to the wide, main road that led out of the nearest gate. A few people passed him on the way into the palace, but it was still early, the Aten not yet fully risen. Even in the cooler air, however, Ryou felt his skin begin to sweat. Luckily Yugi had allowed him a plain _shenti_ , so that he didn’t have to work naked, like so many other slaves.

He sighed. It’d been years since he had first come to Kemet, but his body had still not adjusted to the temperature. The natives around him were all wiry and tanned. His own skin stood out like a beacon, distinctive, never bronzing under the sun. Ryou had once loved his skin and hair, but in Kemet he’d learnt to hate them.

There was an old woman sitting against a building. At her feet lay a number of little wooden ornaments. She was carving another one in the shade of the house. Ryou hesitated. A slender wooden bangle was at her side, carved with tiny hieroglyphs that Ryou couldn’t read. He crouched down beside the old woman and touched the bracelet lightly. “How much for this one?”

She raised her head. “That one? S’worth five _deben_.”

Ryou raised an eyebrow. _I doubt it._ “Two.”

The woman kept whittling away at the small block of wood. “Two?”

“I will give you this,” he said, and held out an amulet of alabaster. It had been a gift from an old master. Trite and meaningless. He’d rather be rid of it.

Instantly the woman snatched it out of his hand. “Done, yes, take it.” The amulet disappeared somewhere inside her shawl. When he took the bracelet, he saw that there was more script on the inside. The wood was worn smooth. A perfect gift.

He caught sight of the glinting river ahead, and on impulse changed direction towards it. Mouth-watering scents were coming from the nearby houses and the bank; fish and meat and something spicy. Further away there were large, sprawling estates. Ryou saw luscious green plants trailing over the light-coloured walls. 

_Yugi should be in one of those_. At his master’s name Ryou paused, wandering more slowly along the heated sand. The scribe - Yugi, he corrected - was different from anyone he’d met. His previous masters, whether kind or… not, had never flushed awkwardly at the reminder of his presence. It was obvious, Ryou considered, with a fond note that surprised him, that Yugi had never owned a slave before. He had no idea what to do with Ryou.

_And I am grateful for that_ , he admitted. It was this nonchalant treatment that had given Ryou free reign of the city. Last night Yugi had waved away his attention and asked him to explore Waset at will. The thought still confused him. There was something about Yugi’s wide, violet eyes and unassuming smile that drew Ryou to him. By all rights Yugi should be a chief scribe, surrounded by a small army of servants and with his own enchanting estate. Ryou had seen the hieroglyphs he doodled in his spare time, and although he could barely read a fraction of it, he knew Yugi had exceptional talent. In spite of that, he was here, trapped in this tiny oasis that was the king’s home.

In fact…

Ryou frowned. Yugi had been acting strangely over the last ten days - no, longer than that, he realised. It was as if Yugi was trying to avoid the king, and when that wasn’t possible, he’d come back shaky and on edge. He said nothing, and so Ryou said nothing, but the slave saw the way he cringed at every mention of the king’s name.

Abruptly Ryou cried out as a heavy weight hit his shoulder blades and he tumbled forward. The ground smacked into his face. “Ow,” he moaned, the sand swirling up on his breath.

A farmer stomped past him. “Out of the way, idiots,” he called back. “Can’t you see in front of your face?”

“Ugh.” Ryou shook pale hair out of his eyes and got to his knees.

“Are you all right?”

He looked round. There was a girl next to him, dirt-smudged and smiling ruefully. She wore a simple linen dress with wide, white straps that fitted over her breasts. “Yes, thank you. And you?”

She shrugged her shoulders. “Not too bad. You can’t argue when they start pushing like that.” The girl picked up a woven basket and sighed. “I hope nothing’s broken.”

“Let me help you,” said Ryou. The girl tucked a lock of short hair behind her ear. She reminded him of a girl he’d known from somewhere across the _Wadj-wer_ , the same brown-black eyes and chestnut hair.

“Thanks.” She smiled at him. Scattered over the ground lay her wares; beads of lapis lazuli, horns of ivory and even a small wooden box full of pearls. Their lustre reflected the morning light of the sun. 

He helped her to her feet. “It’s nothing.” He regarded her curiously from the corner of her eye. The other slave seemed confident, and yet… She cast a searching glance at the shadows of the city and her fingers clenched around the basket until the colour bled from them. Ryou’s fine brows drew together slightly. _What is she so afraid of…?_

Now _he_ was the one feeling nervous and edgy, but the king was nowhere in sight. On the breeze came the sound of cattle lowing. “Are you going to the markets?” asked the girl.

Ryou lifted a shoulder uncertainly. “I’m just exploring, really. Mind if I come with you for a bit?”

A laugh. “Sure, I don’t mind. My name’s Hemetre.”

“Ryou,” he replied. “Is that where you’re going?” and he gestured at the wide path down to the edge of the river. “The markets?”

“Yes.” She hefted the basket higher onto her hip. “I’ve been sent to take this down. My master’s after some fresh oil and ostrich feathers.” An odd expression chased across her face, but it was gone before Ryou could think anything of it.

“Ah,” he said. The air was warming uncomfortably and the heat of the sand burnt through his thin sandals. “And who is your master?”

That expression flared in her eyes, and Ryou suddenly identified it as an odd mix of fear and consternation. “My master… I work in the house of Mesech.” Ryou looked at her blankly. “He’s the governor of this _sepat_.”

“Oh. I work in the Great House - for one of the king’s scribes,” he added, hoping to put her at ease.

“That must be fun.” Hemetre smiled dreamily. “The Great House must be incredible.”

“It’s… very large,” Ryou replied diplomatically. He hadn’t seen much beyond his and Yugi’s quarters, but it certainly _seemed_ very large.

“My master only arrived in Waset recently, but I think he will visit the king soon..”

“I have only met _nsw-bity_ Akhenre once, not his guardians.” The king’s throne name stumbled a little on his tongue, and Ryou resolved to try and tame his accent.

“I suppose the scribes see him quite often.” They walk for a while in silence. “Is he kind, your master?” asked Hemetre, staring ahead.

Ryou’s thoughts became quite still. “He is, yes,” he said, his eyes tracing the shimmering water but all the while listening cautiously to Hemetre’s shallow breaths. “And yours?” The sun was rising properly now, casting deep, dark shadows in the corners of his eyes.

“He’s… He’s not what -” she whispered, but they had reached the riverbank and the wide open markets. A flippant toss of her head, and Hemetre was smiling again. “As good as can be expected.” Ryou smiled, but on the inside his thoughts were disappointed. Another slave, terrified of her master. Would he never escape this pattern? “Here.” Hemetre pressed something into his hands, mouth curving. “For helping me earlier,” she winked, and trotted off into the bustling din.

Blinking, Ryou opened his hand. It was a string of small turquoise _mefkat_ beads in the shape of an anklet. They caught the light prettily against his pale skin.

Touched, Ryou rubbed his thumb over the edge of one of the tiny beads, and hoped he’d meet Hemetre again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is an interlude from the second (or third, depending on the hierarchy of your Ship List) Arc in Blue Lotus. _The King and the Scribe_ is the central Arc, but you’ll meet the other two in Interludes like this one. I know the title was a little misleading, there being no thief in this chapter, but he is going to turn up at some point. _(Promise.)_


	11. Chapter 11

  
_The King and the Scribe_

__

x

Gradually Yugi was becoming more and more familiar with the palace. The Qenbet had assembled in the Central Hall once more. At the front of this hall was the Central, East and West Courts. Behind it was the Coronation Hall, the room of colonnades and lotus pillars. Since that first gathering after the _tep-renpet_ , Yugi had only been called a few times; he could count them on the fingers of one hand. The king disappeared into the bowels of the Great House for days at a time and Yugi sat in his room, reading. Still, those few times had been more than enough.

Yugi eyed the slender body of the king and felt nervous fear threaten the borders of his consciousness. _Sacrifices_ … That word had haunted him, and he began seeing demons in every shadowed corner of the palace. Atemu’s cold ruthlessness on that first meeting had made him shake with fear. It wasn’t hard to imagine his stern figure dictating the sacrifice of his servants, and this time…

This time, Merwt’i was missing.

Yugi stood on the stone dais facing the great hall. It was the first of these meetings that Merwt’i hadn’t been beside him. Unnerved and anxious, Yugi couldn’t stop glancing at the empty space where the servant usually stood.

_Where is he?_ thought Yugi, gnawing at his lower lip. He stood in the half-shadowed gloom behind the throne. _Oh gods, what’s happened to him?_ Dreadful scenarios were running through his mind, and Yugi had to dig his teeth harder into his lip to stop himself imagining the worst. _Please let him be all right,_ he prayed. Merwt’i was a friendly face among strangers, and Yugi had far too few of those.

The advisors - Sacred Guardians, Ryou had called them - lingered at the king’s side. Guards stood against the far wall. A low murmur bubbled from the other side of the doors. Ruffled grey hair appeared on Yugi’s left, followed by the stout vizier. “The waters are high,” reported Siamon. Next to him was a scribe, whispering quietly in his ear. “There should be an excellent harvest.”

“Were there any losses?” asked the king.

“Not many. Some houses were swept away near Abdjw, but little was destroyed.”

A nod. “Distribute extra grain to the survivors. See that they find new accommodation.”

“At once, _Per-a’ah_.” Siamon betrayed no surprise at the king’s words, but Yugi felt his mouth part in shock. _Does he actually care?_ he wondered. _Or is this just another duty?_

He couldn’t tell a thing from the kings’ face, it was as cold and expressionless as ever. Karim, with the scales and the wig, supported the king in almost everything. He had claimed, some days ago, that the king’s one and only concern was his people. Now Yugi wondered if that were indeed true.

“There is the matter of the land that borders Waset’s walls,” said Isis. Gold bangles encircled her wrists and ankles, and she wore a decorative cuff on one arm. Her long hair glimmered in the light - _natural_ , thought Yugi in surprise. “There are several unoccupied estates, _Hm’i_ , and if war indeed falls on Kemet, they could be useful additions to support the army. We could issue a decree and have them seized -”

“No.” The king frowned.

Isis coughed delicately. “It couldn’t hurt to keep them in reserve…”

“No,” said the king again. “I will not sacrifice my people’s happiness for the sake of a war that does not yet exist.” His chiselled face was dark, foreboding.

“But, _nsw_ , if there is another Shadow War like the one your father -”

“You _dare_ speak of him?” Suddenly there was a dark, heavy pressure in the room that stole Yugi’s breath from his lungs. Atemu’s crimson eyes were guarded. “My father was King over the world, and he surrendered his life in order to protect Kemet. You will remember that when you next speak of him.”

Isis bowed, almost parallel to the floor. “Certainly, my lord.” When she raised her head her eyes were thoughtful.

All at once Mahaad began some light, inconsequential conversation and the tension shattered. Yugi stared at the king, his mind spinning. _Akhenamkhanen_ … He knew very little of the previous king, except that his reign had been short, and he’d had only one son - Atemu. _As soon as Isis mentioned him, though…_

Yugi sensed some deeper feeling behind the danger that the king so readily omitted. He eyed the king’s white-knuckled fingers and the tense line of his shoulders. Yugi wondered how close father and son had been, and what had happened to merit this king’s sudden anger. _He said surrendered…_ Not long ago - Atemu’s reign was still so short - there had been an invasion. An army had tried to take Kemet, and Akhenamkhanen had died in the battle.

Or _had_ he?

From the king’s words, it sounded as if Akhenamkhanen had somehow sacrificed himself to save Kemet. _And Atemu has to live with that on his shoulders._ Yugi looked at that unyielding profile and his gaze was tinged with respect. Half-hidden against the king’s chest, the strange, inverted pyramid glowed. A vine of darkness slithered over the stone. Yugi tried to ignore it. _He has to live with the knowledge that his father sacrificed himself for Kemet - for_ him. _How would that even feel?_

The room swam suddenly. Yugi clutched at the granite pillar as a cold, forbidding shudder swept down his spine. _What…?_ Then abruptly it was gone. His vision steadied and the room grew still again. Yugi shook it off. The heat was beginning to permeate the walls of the palace - he should be more careful about staying cool.

“I will coordinate a census,” Siamon was saying, fingers lightly caressing his beard. “A land survey of Waset and the surrounding districts. Perhaps then we might consider the construction of your funeral complex, Majesty.”

“I take care never to consider such matters while I am still breathing,” said the king with dry humour. He was relaxing, the grip on his throne easing. “My descendants will build a magnificent structure for me.”

“But… you do not _have_ any descendants, _per-a’ah_ ,” Siamon reminded him.

The king dismissed the matter with a light wave. “That is inconsequential. I have no doubt that some will materialise at my death. And it is only then that I shall _need_ a funeral complex, so there is no more to say.” Yugi huffed out a breath that was almost a laugh. The light-hearted mood was returning, and it almost felt as if Atemu was being… _playful._

Siamon gave a long-suffering sigh. “Yes, my lord. As you wish.”

Seven other men emerged from the borders of the room - judges, by their clothing. There was also, Yugi noticed, a scribe. His _shenti_ was pristine, decorated with a bright belt, and he wore the king’s throne name on all his gold jewellery. _A Royal Scribe_ , Yugi thought with awe and no small degree of jealousy. This was the ultimate position of authority for a scribe - the Scribe of the King could even oppose the vizier in court. They joined the three guardians in the centre and Siamon nodded to the guards by the door. The king sat back in his chair and crossed his arms, the muscles flexing against his armbands. At the far end of the room the doors swung open silently.

A small band of people trailed in. They were uneasy, curling in on themselves as they scuttled deeper into the room. Three overseers stepped forward, and they began talking about the entitlements from a massive estate just outside the city. The judges gathered around, listening attentively, and Siamon presided over the outcome.

Yugi felt a slight weight pull at his arm. The wooden bangle had slid down until it dangled around his wrist. He pushed it up until it rested snug around his lower arm. Hieroglyphs were carved into both sides of the band, the inner ring a simple brand against his skin. A protection spell against the forces of chaos. Ryou had brought it back from his trip into the city. A present, he’d said. Yugi remembered the warmth of his surprise, as clearly as if it had happened moments ago.

He had asked - well, ordered, really - Ryou to go out for the day. His constant attention made Yugi nervous. The slave had returned that evening with a detailed visual map of Waset, a lovely, turquoise anklet and the bangle. He’d given it to Yugi, hesitant and noticeably anxious, but Yugi’s pleased surprise made him smile. Ryou told him about the slave-girl and her fear of the governor. He described his path through the city in such detail that Yugi desperately wanted to see it for himself.

Yugi traced a finger over the engraved characters and felt a warm surge of affection for Ryou. They had gradually begun to speak more easily, and Yugi was gladder than ever that he’d stepped in to try and save him. Ryou had been much more at ease after that brief trip into town. Yugi wished he could say the same.

His mother would be worrying, Yugi realised suddenly. Set had been sending her enough of Yugi’s wage to trade with, but she probably didn’t know where he was. He should write her a letter.

It hit him, suddenly, his hasty journey from novice scribe to Sandal Bearer of the king. It had been pressed in upon him by Set, over and over again, that his suddenly elevated position was an incredible privilege. Anyone else would give his right arm to be where Yugi stood.

Yugi would give his right arm to be anywhere else.

Something interrupted his thoughts and Yugi blinked. A woman and a man had entered. The woman was crying, small tracks of tears that poured steadily from her eyes. “ _Per-a’ah_ ,” said the man, pressing his head to the floor. “King of _Ta-Shemau_ and _Ta-Mehu_ , Akhenre. Son of Ra, Atemu. Beloved of Kheprer, He Who Promotes _Ma’at_ , He Who Smites His Enemies.” It was the first time that Yugi had heard the king’s full title, all five of his names. He recognised the birth name, Atemu, as well his throne name, Akhenre, but the three others - Horus, Two Ladies and the Golden Horus - he’d never heard before.

The king acknowledged them and the man turned to Siamon, calling on the vizier’s name and title. “Speak,” replied Siamon levelly.

“My name is Tekah.” He visibly steeled himself. “I live by the river not far from the gates. My - my brother-in-law has gone missing, _Hm’i._ ”

“When did this occur?” The three Guardians were all listening.

“Not five days ago. I thought at first that he had gone hunting, but when he did not return… He’s not the kind of man who would leave without a word. “He is…” The man spread his hands out, shaking his head. “My brother-in-law has the mind of a child.”

Siamon frowned. “Is it not possible that he simply strayed too far into the river?” Yugi winced in sympathy. There were not many crocodiles near the city - the noise frightened them away - but the river was still dangerous.

“No, my lord,” answered the woman. She wrung her hands together. “He knows how deadly the river can be. We would not have come here, but our servants can find no trace of him, and we hoped… the Qenbet might be able to…”

The vizier cast a swift glance at the throne, and the king nodded. “Thank you for drawing this to our attention.” Siamon said a few words to the scribe at his side. “We will send a company of soldiers to the river to search for him.” Relief flowed across the couple’s faces, and they bowed low to the floor.

Yugi’s eyebrows rose in surprise. _An entire company to search for one man?_ The king was expressionless, as if the decision did not concern him. Yugi wondered how he could be so generous this time, and yet so ruthless at others. _Who_ is _this king?_


	12. Chapter 12

_Mother… I hope that you enjoyed the New Year. How is everyone?_

Yugi sat at a wooden table on a small, scooped stool, a scroll of papyrus laid out before him. He chewed the end of his stylus, wondering what his mother was doing right now. Outside he could hear the muffled sounds of the servants as they watered the vegetable gardens.

_The journey from Wetjeset-Hor did not take long, and I arrived in Waset safely. I…_

Here he stopped. At Waset he’d been captured, dragged into the palace and forced into High Priest Set’s service. How could he say that to his mother?

_I was lucky enough to be granted an audience with the king - lucky,_ thought Yugi dourly _\- and there I met the High Priest of Amun-Re. He agreed to take me on as his servant._ She would be overjoyed to hear that.

_We went to Nekhen for a few days, and then returned for the tep-renpet. Then Atemu…_ He scratched that out and searched for more ink. _At the ceremony in Waset, the King himself (may he live forever) procured my services while the High Priest went to oversee his duties at the Great Temple. For the past month and a half, I have been working as Sandal Bearer to the king (m.l.f.)._

_Has it really been that long?_ Yugi thought, scanning the papyrus for mistakes. The time seemed to fly by, one hot day after another.

“Yugi! So this is where you’ve been hidin’ away.” Jou’s blond head grinned at him from the doorway.

“Jou?”

The warrior stepped into the room, raising his eyebrows. “I thought you had more things than this,” he said, running a finger along the plain, wooden chest that contained a couple of spare _shenti_ , and not much else.

“I…” Yugi hesitated. He’d never had many things. What grain he’d earned had gone towards food and clothing for himself and his mother. Anything else was saved, and here he had no need to buy things.

Jou’s russet-coloured eyes lit with understanding. The soldier, Yugi recalled, had never had many possessions either. “Well, what are you still doing in here?”

“Writing a letter to my mother.”

“Nedjemet? Tell her I send my greetings, and I want some of her honey cakes when I go back. What d’you do for fun now, then?”

“Um… read?” suggested Yugi. He’d managed to find a copy of _The Shipwrecked Sailor_ and it lay unfinished on the table.

“That’s it? Don’t you go out?”

Yugi gestured helplessly at the four walls that bordered the room. “There’s nowhere to go.”

“’Course there is. You haven’t been sittin’ in here the whole time, have you?” At Yugi’s blank shrug Jou rolled his eyes. “No wonder I haven’t seen you. Come on.” He tugged Yugi up and cocked his head at the door. “Let’s go.”

“Go where?” replied Yugi, letting himself be dragged along.

“Anywhere!” Jou was grinning, perfectly relaxed in the wide halls. “You’re a Sandal Bearer now, Yug’. And not just any Sandal Bearer, the _king’s_. You can go almost anywhere in the whole damn palace.”

“Wh - anywhere?” It hadn’t once occurred to Yugi to leave the sanctuary of his room. If he was summoned he would follow dutifully after the king, but when his task was over, he’d return to his room. The Great House was for the king and his courtiers, not servants. He said as much.

“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re not just some servant, you know. The king usually has princes and nobles waiting on him hand and foot, not apprentice scribes.”

_I guess that makes me special, then_. Another thought occurred to him. “What about Merwt’i?”

“Who?”

“The king’s other Sandal Bearer.” On their left a wide corridor opened up, leading to the courts and the servant quarters, the only places Yugi was familiar with. They passed it. “He attended the king when I first came here.”

Jou scratched his head. “Braided hair; light eyes? He’s a lesser prince from one of the borderlands - I forget where. He was raised in Kemet. Keepin’ relations happy.”

“Oh…” _A prince_ … The king was surrounded by courtiers, nobles and even royalty. _And me_. He shivered. _But…_ “Jou…” Yugi felt foolish for what he was about to ask - it all sounded so ridiculous out loud. “Does the king… does Atemu sacrifice his servants?”

“ _Sacrifice_?” Jou stopped in the hall, incredulous. “Of course not! What idiot told you that?”

“Well… Merwt’i heard some kind of rumours…”

The soldier snorted and began walking again. “Yeah, right. The only thing he’s heard is that you were going to take his place.”

“Take his place?”

“Mm. He’s devoted to Atem. Soon as word got round that he’d personally picked you as his new Sandal Bearer, Merwt’i probably started thinking of any way he could to get you out of here.”

“Gods,” murmured Yugi. He’d thought the boy’s initial glares had just been a way of warning him away, out of danger. “I feel really stupid,” he admitted.

Jou chuckled. “No problem, I won’t tell Atem. He’d probably find it really hilarious, though.”

“Don’t tell him! You won’t, will you?” The soldier grinned and assured him that he wouldn’t breathe a word. “Where is he now, then?” asked Yugi. “Merwt’i. I haven’t seen him in a while.”

“Off cleaning somewhere, overseeing the servants. Atem demoted him.”

His eyes widened at that. “Demoted? Not because -”

“Not because of you,” Jou reassured him. “He’s been making mistakes since the last growing season and Atem’s finally got tired of it. I’m pretty sure that’s why, at least,” he added, a slight frown growing between his eyes.

They turned down another hall, and suddenly the palace walls vanished around them. The stone floor led out into a wide, lavish garden. Dozens of trees arched into a tall canopy and the grassy floor was littered with bushes and flowers. “Oh,” breathed Yugi. “This is...” A light, musical sound indicated water nearby, perhaps a fountain. The sun cast warm patterns over the grass.

“I know.” Jou brushed back a few strands of long, golden hair from his face. “This is Atem’s personal garden.”

The words took a few minutes to sink in. “ _Personal_!? You mean this is _His_ \- Jou, what are we doing here?“ he hissed, eyes darting between the shadows, as if the King was lurking somewhere among the trees.

“Relax, Yug’! It’s not his _personal_ personal garden. Just… _his_ garden.” He flicked his fingers at the other wall. “His quarters are over on that side, but everyone in this part of the palace can use it if they want. As long as they’re _good_ ,” he said teasingly.

Yugi squeaked. Although he’d known that the king slept close to his own quarters, seeing it suddenly made the distance seem so much shorter. “I still don’t think we should be here.”

“He’s down in - in another part of the House, today. Won’t be here until dusk at the earliest.” The soldier dropped down underneath a sycamore tree with a grateful sigh. After an anxious few minutes Yugi joined him. The shade did feel good, and he unwittingly began to relax.

“…Why would Merwt’i want to scare me off?” asked Yugi after a minute, seeing the boy’s face flash through his mind.

Jou shrugged. “He was favoured as a Sandal Bearer. If the king found someone new, he’d be relegated to somewhere else, and he wouldn’t have the ear of the king.”

“But, surely with _two_ servants…?”

“Atem doesn’t take more than one servant.” Jou plucked up a long strand of grass and shredded it absently. His fingers moved in quick, short movements, and Yugi thought he seemed restless. “Can’t trust too many people,” he explained. “He is ruler, after all. No one’s allowed to get too close.”

That reminded him of something. “But you’re His Right Hand, aren’t you?”

“Yeah.” A proud grin crossed Jou’s face. “Right Hand of the King - got a nice sound, eh, Yug’?”

“What do you do, then? As his Right Hand?”

“Basically the same thing I always do, ‘cept I get a lot more praise, and I get to ride a lot closer to Atem.” Yugi quirked an eyebrow. “Fight,” Jou explained.

“Oh, I see. So you’re… His most trusted general?”

“Something like that.”

They sat for a while underneath the sycamore tree, listening to a benu bird sing. A wagtail answered it, warbling out a loud chorus of notes, and the benu bird fell into outraged silence. Yugi picked up a small blossom that had floated to the floor, long past its season. He turned the flower round in his hands pensively. “Will there be a war, do you think, Jou?” 

“Nah, not while Atem’s on the throne,” replied Jou, leaning back against the trunk. “He’s bound to sort it out before it gets that bad.”

“Isis said there were rebels attacking Kemet,” he murmured. The thought of war was hard to grasp: here, in the king’s palace, it was a distant thought. “But the king - Atemu,” Yugi corrected at Jou’s glance, “dismissed it.” He wondered which one he should believe. Isis had been so… calculating.

“There’re always rebels, somewhere. Most of them are small villages out on the borders, but sometimes you get a few Sand-dwellers stirring up trouble. I wouldn’t worry too much, Yugi,” he said.

Still, Yugi couldn’t quite forget it. The flower in his hands gave off a sharp, saccharine fragrance when he rubbed its petals. Jou was fiddling with a slender blue collar over his shoulders. He looked like he didn’t really know what to do with himself. “What will you do? Until there’s another war, I mean.”

“I don’t know. Hang around, advise Atem. Generally annoy people.”

Now he got it. “Why don’t you visit the Great Temple?” he said blithely, not looking at Jou. “It might be a good idea to give thanks to the gods for your journey.”

Jou drummed his fingers against his knee, his expression slowly brightening. “That’s not a bad idea. I’m well overdue for my libations.” The soldier grinned at him. “You’ll be all right without me?”

“Yes, I think I can manage,” replied Yugi sarcastically. _It’s not like He hates the sight of me and wants to sacrifice me, or anything. Probably._

“Then I’ll see you when I get back.”

“Yes. If I’m still alive.” Jou’s laughter was warm. Yugi stared up at the sky and wondered, seriously, if he would live through his time at the palace, or if the king’s attitude would end up getting him killed.

Only time would tell.


	13. Chapter 13

It hadn’t taken much to persuade Jou to visit _Ipet-iswt_ , that Most Sacred of Places. Yugi suspected that it wasn’t only his friend’s religious piety that had made his decision so easy. Yugi halted at a window that looked out towards the river. Ra’s chariot was slowly coming down from its climb and the day was finally bearable again.

Soft, pattering footsteps echoed through the corridor and Yugi turned. A servant was hastening along the hall, glancing from left to right. As soon as he saw Yugi he stopped. The servant clapped his hands together and bowed. “His Majesty the King - _ankh, wedja, seneb_ \- requests the presence of his Sandal Bearer at the Lake.”

Yugi hesitated. “The lake?” He’d never heard of a lake at the palace before. Besides, why a lake when Waset sat upon the river?

“Yes. I will take you to him.” The slave took several steps back, signalling Yugi forward. Bemused, Yugi followed him.

The Lake, it turned out, was a large expanse of water on the other side of the king’s garden. A stone quay served as a kind of basic pier, and around it stretched a carpet of green grass. There were a series of small, narrow buildings to Yugi’s right, against the huge palace wall. Slight waves crested over the lake, snatching at the slender barge that bobbed on the water. On the quay stood a handful of guards and a few nobles. They wore coloured linen robes, their faces painted with malachite and red ochre. Light, inane chatter filled the air. In the centre was the king. Curious eyes flickered over Yugi as he approached, and dismissed him quickly. Yugi was conscious of his simple _shenti_ and Ryou’s wooden bangle - the only decoration he wore.

He waited as the servant darted through the throng to the king’s side. Atemu tilted his head to listen, wearing a striped _nemes_ headdress and royal _shendyt_. Most of his jewellery had been discarded, and he wore only a red and blue collar and heavy gold earrings. As the servant spoke, Atemu lifted his head and looked at Yugi. Immediately Yugi dropped his gaze, focussing somewhere below the king’s ear. A gesture caught his eye; the king beckoning him closer. The servant wiggled past him and went back into the palace.

Yugi drew close to the king, nervous, and waited for further instruction. This was the first time he’d been so close. In the courts or the throne room he’d simply been able to follow along as part of the ruler’s little procession. Actually _speaking_ hadn’t been required.

Atemu gazed at him for a moment in silence. Yugi stilled his hands at his side and tried not to think too hard. “You will join me on the Royal Barge, Sandal Bearer,” murmured the king.

_It’s very different_ , thought Yugi, his mind reeling. Having the king speak directly _to_ him… He must have heard the man’s voice a hundred times by now, but this time Yugi felt a tingling sense of awareness sweep through him. He nodded mutely in reply.

A brief sigh brushed past his ear, then the king was moving away. He called to his guards and he and the courtiers boarded the ship. It bounced on the waves, and Yugi wondered drearily if he’d ever get to stay on dry land for good. Yugi climbed into the boat and stood beside the king’s chair. Behind him a young girl steered, gripping the large rudder with both hands and frowning in concentration. Yugi tucked his arms behind his back as they cast off, clutching his elbows, and slowly began to relax. Then he blinked.

Twenty girls sat perched on the benches, their hands on the gold and ebony oars. Oil and sweat glistened on their bodies, and Yugi looked at them again in surprise. They were wearing nets. What looked like nets, anyway. The weave was loose and stretched over their naked bodies. Yugi blushed and averted his eyes. The king chuckled and his cheeks grew hotter. The girls began singing in low, sweet voices. Occasionally one would splash at the water with her oar or her hand, and an ibis would flap into the air, squawking indignantly. The hum of their voices mingled with the sound of the birds that rustled and crooned among the rushes. Apparently content to gaze at the water and quiz the girls, the courtiers that had accompanied Atemu onto the boat flitted from bow to stern and back again. The king watched them.

Some strange sense of uneasiness teased at Yugi. Or, not quite unease, but… _something_ , something that stirred the hairs on the back of his neck and made him feel stingingly aware of every drop of sweat on his skin. He cast a glance at the king. Atemu lounged in his chair, slender legs stretched before him. In the sunlight his tanned skin gleamed. Dark, velvet eyes glittered as they swept over the lake. Even with the warmth around him, Yugi could feel a dangerous heat pouring off the king’s figure.

Crimson looked up and met his gaze. Yugi shivered. Those eyes were _hungry_.

Shaken, Yugi diverted his gaze. In that moment he could’ve believed that Amun himself, Great God of life and fertility, sat in the king’s place. “So, Sandal Bearer,” came the king’s voice, smooth as silk. “You are not enjoying my Royal Barge?”

Yugi shook his head instantly, distressed. “N-no, my lord - I mean, yes, yes, I am. It’s - it is extremely… an excellent piece of craftsmanship,” he stuttered. Luckily no one appeared to be paying attention to their conversation, or to how idiotic Yugi sounded.

“But you do not like the Lake?” pursued the king.

“I - I do, my lord, I think it’s very beautiful.” He couldn’t stop his gaze from darting quickly to the king and away.

“It is indeed.” Both watched as a pair of herons glided down onto the water. “And yet you do not seem to be enjoying yourself.”

Pale pink crept down his neck as Yugi blushed again. “I am… not sure what you mean, my lord,” he admitted.

Atemu’s lips curled up at the corners in a wicked smirk that lit his eyes with fire. “You are uneasy, Sandal Bearer. Perhaps you should relax more,” he purred, calm though Yugi was fidgeting and flushing at his side. “I’m sure there must be some way to ease the tension in your muscles.” 

_That_ only made Yugi blush harder. “Th-thank you, _per-a’ah_. I shall try to be more… restive.”

The king tilted his head back and regarded him steadily. “You may have one of the girls,” he said, his tone soft; magnanimous. Yugi stiffened.

“… One of the girls?” he asked.

“They are from my harem, and will serve you if I wish it.” The girls were unconscious of his words, flirting prettily with the courtiers.

“If you wish it…” Yugi swallowed. _If_ you _wish it_. A strange sort of disappointment lurked in the back of his throat. “Thank you, nsw, but I am fine. I… appreciate your generosity.” The words left a bad taste in his mouth.

Atemu shrugged nonchalantly. “So be it.”

“The courtiers,” Yugi said, very quietly. There didn’t seem to be any way of predicting Atemu’s moods, but at the moment Yugi didn’t think that he would punish a few free words. “Why did they come with you today, if I may ask, lord?”

“I bid them sail with me,” replied the king carelessly.

“I see,” Yugi muttered. He pressed his lips together and said no more. _He_ doesn’t _care_ , thought Yugi. _All he sees are servants to be ordered. He fulfils his duties and takes everything that comes to him._ Suddenly he wanted to be off the boat, as far away as possible.

The quay was nearing, close enough that a jump would clear it. Yugi bowed to the king. “ _Per-a’ah_. With your permission, I would like to stay in the shade for a short time. The heat is… making me feel faint,” he said, hoping the king would believe him.

Atemu barely spared him a glance. “Go, then. But be careful you do not fall.”

Yugi shivered at the note in his voice. When they approached the stone dock he leapt nimbly over the side of the boat and onto the pier. He stumbled a little, and the boat swept past him. The sound of singing grew fainter. For a while Yugi watched it glide off across the lake. _I don’t understand. Who is he really?_ “Insufferable.” He kicked at the dirt.

“Yugi?” He jumped and looked up. Mahaad smiled at him. He wore the strange golden ring and his angular features were light.

“Mahaad.” Yugi bowed. This man was one of the king’s most favoured guardians, but he was kind to everyone, indiscriminately. Yugi liked him.

“Why aren’t you on the Royal Barge with Atemu?” the guardian asked.

“Um…” Yugi scratched the back of his head and smiled sheepishly. _Could I tell him the truth?_ “I-I started to feel dizzy from the heat.”

Mahaad gave him a measured look. His eyes were assessing and, Yugi thought, far too perceptive. “Ah. It’s Atem, isn’t it?” The Guardian looked down at him kindly, and Yugi had to bite back the urge to pour out all of his thoughts in one huge, tangled mess.

“Yes,” he acknowledged, not quite able to meet the other man’s gaze. “He’s just… Why is he so difficult?” he burst out.

Mahaad laughed. “What did he do?”

Yugi thought his reasons were flimsy against the authority of the Sacred Guardians, so he shrugged. “I just don’t understand him.”

The other man gripped the golden ring that lay over his chest, sighing. “The king is as changeable as the river,” he said, after a minute. “And he has many masks. But he’s had to shoulder a great deal, Yugi. It does not make him kind, but it’s made him King. Give him a chance,” Mahaad added. “At the moment I’m sure you hate him. You may yet change your mind.” Grudgingly, Yugi nodded. He tried never to judge people by their appearances, but Atemu… He would look again; try to see what Mahaad saw.

There was a cry from the direction of the Lake, then deep, lilting laughter. Mahaad raised an eyebrow and sighed. “Perhaps you should spend the rest of the day in the palace, where it’s cooler.” Yugi smiled at him gratefully.

A slave ran up to them. “Lord Mahaad, the King bids you come to his side. One of the…” He stopped for a moment, a smile twitching at his composed expression. “She Who Steers has lifted her oar - she says that she’s dropped a jewel into the lake.” He smiled apologetically. “The King asks if you, as Court Magician, could turn the waters back and retrieve it for her.”

Mahaad rolled his eyes to the sky and Yugi grinned despite himself. “I will be there soon.” He got up, winking at Yugi. “With Set away, Atemu has no one to entertain him except myself,” he said lightly. “I expect I will see you in the court soon, Yugi.”

He glided away towards the lake. Yugi turned to the palace, but his mind dwelled obstinately on the king. Yugi owed his life to him, in a strange, roundabout kind of way.

_I hate that._


	14. Chapter 14

The king had sent fresh orders to the village of _Set Ma’at Her Imnty Waset_. They were to begin construction on a monument to his father, Lord Akhenamkhanen. Atemu’s feelings towards his father were still unfathomable, but by the way he held his name in reverence, Yugi suspected that he cared far more deeply than he let on.

Perhaps he cared for many things - Yugi did not know. Atemu was cold and soulless on the throne, but on the lake his eyes had burned like fire. Which was the real Atemu? Was the king only a mask? Or was the playful, seductive persona the façade he used against the other courtiers? _And which one_ , thought Yugi, _would he use against me?_

“Good morning, Yugi.” The scribe started and looked up. It was Mahaad and the woman, Isis. Their expressions were serious, as if Yugi had suddenly walked in on them in the midst of a grave conversation.

“Mahaad - uh, good morning.” He eyed the woman uncertainly. “And to you, Isis.”

She smiled at him. “Good morning, Yugi.” He wondered if she had known his name before he came upon them today, or if she had needed Mahaad’s greeting to prompt her.

“You looked like your thoughts were far away, on the other side of the world,” queried the magician softly.

Yugi smiled a little. “I was just thinking about… home.” People tended to accept that at face value.

“And where is home, Yugi?” Isis fell into step beside Yugi, Mahaad trailing along behind them. The female guardian floated down the corridor with an ease that made Yugi feel like a newborn foal - limbs too ungainly for his body and balance to match.

“Wetjeset-Hor. I was born there.”

“And Waset was your first journey?”

“Yes…” Yugi eyed her warily. “How did you know?”

Her lips turned up in an expression of faint satisfaction, but her eyes were dark. “I am able to see things that are not normally apparent.”

“In this case,” said Mahaad behind him, “it was quite apparent.” Isis chuckled.

Something about Isis’ words caught Yugi’s attention. “See things… What kind of things do you see?”

Isis gestured to the necklace that rested snug around her throat. “This is a Sennen Item,” she explained. An eye glared out from the centre of the ring, blank and eerie. The same eye that was imprinted on the king’s golden pyramid. “It allows me to pierce the veil between the worlds and see into the Shadow Realm.”

“Shadow Realm?”

“The place where souls are sent when they fail against _Ma’at_.”

Yugi sucked in a breath, his eyes wide. He’d never heard it called that before, but of course he knew that place. The world was split into four; the gods, the king, the blessed dead and humanity. As king, Atemu could mediate between the gods and humanity, serving Kemet as best as they would allow. The blessed dead were the righteous souls that remained in the afterlife, at peace. All four were bound together by a kind of moral obligation, working together to create and maintain order, maintain _ma‘at_. If any _ka_ was found wanting, however… Condemned souls were cast out of creation, to be tortured for all eternity in the disordered realms outside the cosmos.

The Shadow Realm.

“With this necklace,” Isis continued. “I can catch glimpses of the past, and even the future.”

_Future?_ thought Yugi, incredulous.

“Yes.” He started, and realised that he had spoken aloud. “But only with the necklace’s aid. True Seers are rare, and only the gods know the whole truth.” She frowned.

Mahaad crossed his arms over his chest, bare save for a single gold armband. His face was grave. “Today’s future seems unusually dark,” he murmured cryptically. Their voices were suddenly quiet in the wide corridor. Yugi wondered if anyone was listening.

“Nothing is absolute,” said Isis. At Yugi’s quick glance she smiled. “There is indeed a threat on the horizon, but it is still shadowed and unclear.”

“We are on our way to my rooms, to look up any records we have for the Sand-dwellers,” said Mahaad. “I have a feeling our new menace comes from them.”

“Then…” Yugi swallowed past a dry throat. “Then there is going to be a war. When Atemu dismissed it, I thought Kemet was safe, I didn’t really believe…” Even knowing how contrary the king could be, he’d still believed his every word.

“Perhaps,” said Mahaad quietly, “that’s what he intended. If the people knew that there was an army just waiting for the order to attack, there would be panic in the streets. Now we have some time, hopefully, to prepare.”

So, Atemu really had been acting for the people, not himself. Despite Mahaad’s words yesterday, Yugi still had not truly believed that Atemu could be anything other than a spoiled child. Now, though… “Will you? Be able to prepare, I mean.”

The two Guardians shared a look. “Perhaps,” answered Mahaad. “If we can find out something about the way they fight, we may have an advantage.”

“But we’re not sure of anything, yet.” Shaking back her dark hair, Isis touched the tips of her fingers to the eerie, golden eye. “So there is no need to worry.”

_Don’t panic_ , translated Yugi. “I understand.” He stopped, and the two tall figures kept walking, dismissing him with identical nods. _And don’t get into trouble._

_War is coming._ The thought sent a frisson of fear through him.

“Yugi!” Someone came running up behind him, panting heavily through the corridor. 

It was Merwt’i. Yugi stiffened. The servant was smiling at him, light eyes blank and unburdened. “Hello, Merwt’i.” Yugi turned to face him. _Maybe he was just afraid_. Atemu was very capable of inspiring fear.

“Have you eaten yet?” Merwt’i glanced away down the corridor, raising his eyebrows a little as Isis and Mahaad disappeared around a corner. “You were speaking with the Sacred Guardians? Do they…” He scratched at the skin on his shoulder. “Do they know you well?”

“A little. Merwt’i, did you…” Yugi ran a hand through his tangled mess of hair. “What you said about the King…”

“I’m sorry,” Merwt’i mumbled, whole body sagging. “I know it was stupid, but… but when he chose you, I thought that…” At the sight of Merwt’i’s awkward, shamed stance, Yugi was overcome with sympathy.

“It’s all right. I understand.” Merwt’i had been Atemu’s servant for far longer than Yugi himself. It was no surprise that he should feel jealous. If Yugi had been in his place, he might have felt something similar.

“Are you hungry?” asked Merwt’i shyly.

He was. He hadn’t eaten since the morning and the sun was already beginning to set. “Yes, definitely.”

Merwt’i led him through a series of long, open corridors into the heart of the palace. The roof got lower and lower as they went and the light got darker and darker. Yugi felt as though they were entering some part of the Great House that no one had ever seen before.

After a few moments they emerged into a small room, lined with columns carved in relief by the entrance. There was a mural on the wall, very like the one at Nekhen. Yugi stopped, moving closer. It was the king’s father, circling the stones of the Heb-Sed festival. The lines of his body were strong, vivid. Something about the static figure reminded Yugi of Atemu. He reached out, trailing his fingers over the stone. This man was everywhere. His presence echoed through the palace. Yugi wondered how often Atemu thought of him.

Turning away, Yugi paused. The room was empty. Three other passages led off from this one and Merwt’i could have taken any. He must’ve gone on without realising that he’d left Yugi behind. “Damn.” None of these corridors were familiar and he’d completely lost track of the way they had come. There was no way to tell what part of the palace he was in now. Yugi turned in a circle, fruitlessly searching for some clue to his whereabouts. He was starving. “If I was food,” he thought aloud. “Where would I be…?”

“Not here.”

Yugi whirled. Two guards had just entered through a dark opening in the stone. Their weapons dangled in plain sight and their faces were unforgiving. “What are you doing down here? It’s forbidden for all you servants,” said one, a Medjay warrior.

“I’m sorry.” Yugi took a step back, hoping Merwt’i hadn’t gone far. “I didn’t know. I’ll leave.” He hesitated. “If you could just tell me how to get back…”

“No.” The Medjay warrior clamped a hand on his shoulder, dark against Yugi’s paler skin. “You’re not allowed here.” His fingers were bruising Yugi’s shoulder. “Do you understand, scribe?” He shook Yugi, back and forth like a piece of cloth. 

“Or are our words too common for you?” said the other one at Yugi’s side.

The Medjay snorted, shoving Yugi away. Unable to catch himself, Yugi stumbled into the wall. His elbow smacked hard against the stone. Again the Medjay grabbed his shoulder and pushed him back. This time Yugi smacked his head. Bright, white stars danced in his vision. “Do you understand now, scribe? Now?” With every sentence Yugi hit the wall. A fierce line of pain erupted down the length of his body, all the way from shoulder to hip. He was a plaything in the hands of these massive guards.

But he hadn’t grown up with Jou for nothing. The next time the Medjay reached out his hand, Yugi bit it. Savagely, digging his teeth into the flesh until he felt bone. The man let out a scream. He danced back and Yugi kicked him in the groin.

He went down like a felled log. The other guard snarled. He was slighter and when he went for the scribe Yugi dodged his grip. The man’s feet were bare. Yugi slammed his own foot down on the bridge. There was a cracking sound. The guard yelped, curling around his broken foot.

“That is why you should wear sandals,” muttered Yugi, stepping over the injured men.

“Yugi?” Merwt’i stood in a doorway, eyes wide. “What - I heard shouting. What - what _happened_?”

Yugi shrugged, feeling confident and almost nonchalant now that he wasn’t being thrown against a wall. “Just a misunderstanding.”

“Misunder -” Merwt’i shook his head. A smile was beginning to curl his mouth. “Come on. And stay with me, this time. You get left behind again and I’m not coming back. We’re not exactly supposed to be here, you know,” he confided.

Yugi raised his eyebrows. “Really? I didn’t realise.”


	15. Chapter 15

  
Interlude

_The Priest and the Soldier_

X

Sun-strewn hair lay tousled and unkempt over tanned skin. Jounouchi stretched out his legs with a sigh. Set eyed the man. Tomorrow he would have a word with his priests. If they were letting soldiers into the complex then they clearly had too little to do. “So, then, priest,” said Jou. “Is this what you do all day? Sit around and wait for the king to snap his fingers?”

Set snorted at him. “My name is _Set_ , dog, and you _will_ show me respect.”

Honey brown eyes sparkled at him from over a mug of beer. “And mine’s Jou. You think you can remember that?” Set shot him a grim look. “Besides, the king calls you priest all the time,” added Jou, smug.

“I am aware of that.” _Just to remind me of my place - and Jou knows it as well as I do._ He rubbed a hand over his scalp. It was evening and he had more duties to fulfil for Amun-Re. Strangely, though, he was reluctant to return to the chapel. Although Jou was often crude and thoughtless, he displayed an occasional flash of wit that surprised him. It made the days go by more quickly.

“I hope you do more than sit around and stare at nothing tonight,” muttered the soldier. “It’s hardly entertaining.”

“Why don’t you return to the palace, then?” _Why are you still bothering me?_

“I have libations to make,” replied Jou carelessly, selecting another sliver of bread. 

“So, you’re leaving Yugi alone in the clutches of our ruler?”

“Yugi can take care of himself.”

He arched an eyebrow. “I will remember that you said that.”

“Besides, I thought _you_ were going to keep him away from Atem.”

Set’s eyes sparked. The words stung; he _had_ intended on steering the boy clear of Atemu. The king was dangerous and Yugi would not be able to see it until too late. He just had not taken _Atemu_ into consideration. “The king does what he will - _I_ cannot stop him. And I will not take orders from some _thug_.”

A muscle ticked in Jou’s jaw. “Yugi could be good for Atem,” said Jou after a moment, ignoring Set’s expression. “He’s a good influence. Calming.”

“I do not think he’ll be _calming_ the king at all,” said Set dryly.

“I’ll keep my eye on Yugi, then, if you watch the king.” Jou was staring at his plate in a way Set would call senseless on Jou and thoughtful on anyone else. He gave a noncommittal answer. Once he decided to do something, Atemu could not be stopped by either one of them. He did not know what Jou expected him to do about it. Set laced his fingers together and watched Jou eat. The small meal his priests had laid out was disappearing quickly. Jou caught his stare and paused. “You’re not eating?”

“No,” he replied. “I will fast while I serve Amun.” Golden brows dipped down but Jou said nothing. The high priest shifted. “I need to be pure within the temple,” he added. _Why should I explain myself to him?_ “You should return to Waset,” he said abruptly, standing. “My priests can complete your libations.”

“Anything you say, O mighty priest and Left Hand of the King,” Jou replied in monotone, but when he glanced up his eyes were glittering.

x

The Aten would be rising soon. Set strode through the corridors to his small room, set aside temporarily for the high priest while he served the god. At dawn he would unseal the chapel, then begin his prayers. Later he could purify himself properly in the sacred lake, but right now he just needed to be clean.

Set ducked through the entrance to his room. He halted on the threshold and blinked. Ruffled golden hair and bronze skin. “What are you doing?”

The soldier raised his head. “Morning, Set.” He dipped his calf in a salute. Water rippled around his body.

“You’re - what do you think you are _doing_?”

Jou shrugged his shoulders against the stone bath. “What? It was cold; I thought you’d already gone.”

Set grit his teeth. “It is _supposed_ to be cold.”

“Oh.” Infuriatingly, the man was grinning. He pulled his legs in over the side and stood up. Beads of clear water dripped from his hair and skin. “Well, I’ve finished now.”

“Finished…” The high priest crossed his arms and glowered at Jou. “Get out.”

The soldier chuckled. He stepped out of the water, brushing off droplets onto the ground. “You have your morning rituals and I have mine.” Russet eyes flicked down Set’s body. The high priest was wearing a simple white _shenti_ and nothing else, and suddenly he could _feel_ the nothing else. “Although I usually spend an hour after my bath wrestling with my soldiers…”

The man was naked and seemed content to remain so. Heat rose through Set’s cheeks and he averted his eyes. It annoyed him irrationally that Jou was so comfortable without clothes. “I am not _wrestling_ you,” he muttered.

“Scared?” taunted Jou.

Set squared his shoulders. He had a moment to see the mischief in Jou’s eyes turn to recognition before he leapt. His body slammed into Jou’s. Set grabbed the man’s arms, clamping his hands around Jou’s biceps. The warrior ducked a shoulder and he lost the hold. Jou twisted. He shoved his hips into Set’s thigh, forcing him to take a step back. The man hooked his leg around Set’s. The high priest dodged. He slapped away Jou’s hand and pressed him against the wall, using his greater height to hold him in place.

“Not bad,” said Jou, still grinning that maddening grin..

“You were saying?” said Set, well aware that he was gloating and enjoying every minute of it.

“You’re still not going to win, though.” Jou tensed against him, testing the strength in Set’s arms. The priest tightened his grip.

“Oh? And why is that?”

Suddenly Set found himself on his back, sharp pain radiating down his spine where he’d hit the ground. Jou was straddling him, firm thighs tight around his hips and hands pinning his wrists to the stone. The General’s russet eyes glittered. “Because I fight dirty.”

Set’s lips twisted. “Let me up.”

Hot breath fanned over his lips as Jou chuckled. “No.”

“Jou-” The soldier’s hand cupped the side of his face and the words caught in his throat. Jou stroked a thumb lightly over Set’s thick eyelashes. The touch was ticklish and his eyes fluttered.

“Keep the eyelashes,” murmured Jou, face inches from Set’s own. “They make your eyes look bigger.”

Swallowing, Set opened his mouth to speak.

“High Priest?”

Immediately Set pushed away and scrambled to his feet. “Yes?”

When the _wabet_ priest entered they were standing cubits apart and Jou was fixing his _shenti_. “We await you at the chapel, _Hm-Netjer_ ,” said the priest with a bow. Set nodded and the man left. His heart was pounding.

“You should go back to your king, priest,” said Jou. He cast Set an unreadable glance. “I am sure that he’ll be missing you by now.”

Speechless, Set turned on his heel and left. He clenched his hands into fists and banished all thoughts from his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do love these two. I have a real thing for power dynamics (anyone whose read my FF7 Wicked Games series on affnet knows that) and I intend to play with this one. In the sequel (when or if I eventually get to writing it), the dynamic will change, because High Priest Set and Seto Kaiba may own the same ka but they are very different people.
> 
> Here’s a clarification on the 3 Arcs of Blue Lotus:
> 
> Arc 1: Blindshipping  
>  Arc 2: Gemshipping  
>  Arc 3: Revertshipping
> 
> (Yes, I had to look up those last two.)


	16. Chapter 16

_The King and the Scribe_

_x_

Above the whispering treetops the night sky was streaked with glittering white stars. The smell of flowers hung in the air, heady and sweet. The river waters were beginning to recede and the farmers were returning to their fields. Yugi made his way through the garden, towards the lilting music. Pushing through the flowers, Yugi emerged into a small, open clearing. At the centre were three young dancers. They each held _sistra_ and jangled them as they moved, bodies twisting sinuously. At one side lounged the king.

Yugi edged his way around the girls. There were no courtiers here, under the starlight, but Yugi had no doubt that the ruler’s devoted guards were hidden away somewhere among the trees. Yugi stepped into the shadows behind Atemu’s chair, watching through lowered eyelashes. He hadn’t seen the king all day and, looking at him now, Yugi frowned. The man seemed pensive - solemn, even. He sat silently, chin in his hand, staring off into the distance.

It was unnerving. Yugi shifted his weight. For some reason, he wanted to see that arrogant smirk curling Atemu’s lips. Even the cold, calculating king would be preferable to this brooding calm. At least then Yugi knew where he stood.

One of the girls danced in front of them, curving her body in movements designed to hypnotise and seduce. Yugi blushed, averting his eyes. Despite the warmth of the night and the beauty of this tranquil garden, he couldn’t seem to relax.

Abruptly Atemu’s heavy gaze swung toward him and the scribe gulped. The king observed him for a moment, then quirked an eyebrow. “Sandal-Bearer,” he said. “Make yourself useful and bring me something to eat.”

Yugi slunk away to the edge of the clearing. There were a few servants there, carrying trays of food and drink for the king’s _mesyt_. Yugi realised suddenly that he didn’t know what the king liked to eat. “Here,” murmured one of the servants, lifting his tray. “Take some of these.” Smiling gratefully, Yugi took a plate piled high with fresh fruits and bread drizzled with honey. He crept back to the king and waited nervously at the side of his chair. Even in the warm air, he could feel the heat of the king’s body, just cubits from him.

Atemu perused his offering silently and picked out a fig. Yugi wondered at his choice; no doubt Atemu was quite familiar with the fig’s effect on one particular area of the body. He cut short that thought before it could take shape and stood there. Atemu’s mood wasn’t improving. Yugi eyed the man. It was unheard of for a mere scribe to question the king, but perhaps he would be permitted a conversation… “Good evening, my lord,” he said quietly. This king was unpredictable already, one question couldn’t hurt, surely? “How - how has the day gone?”

Atemu concentrated on taking the fig apart between his fingers and didn’t answer. Ashamed, Yugi ducked his head. Then Aremu’s deep voice split the silence. “There was an execution this morning.”

Eyes wide, Yugi gripped the tray. “An execution? What happened?”

“A murderer, brought in by the governor of Waset. He was guilty.” The king bit into the fig, sucking out the seeds. 

“Oh.” There were sharp, wooden stakes set around the borders of the city. The heads of criminals were speared on them as a reminder of the king’s power. Yugi wondered if this murderer was even now decorating the city walls. “I see.” He considered asking, but a shadow oozed from the pyramid, as if outraged by the thought.

The king took a piece of ripe mango; the juice dripped from his long fingers and Yugi felt a flush of strange heat streak down his spine. “And the _A’amu_ have been in contact again.”

“The _A’amu_?” asked Yugi. He scoured his mind for any past conversation concerning the tribe. “More negotiations on behalf of their king?”

A liquid glance was thrown his way. “You have an excellent memory, Yugi.” The scribe flushed, surprised and pleased at the praise - and that the king even knew his name. Atemu sighed, brushing juice off his fingers. “They are indeed seeking further negotiations.” His brows furrowed, expression dark. “It seems they wish to bring me tribute… and their prince will accompany them.”

“They’re coming here?” Some innate sense of foreboding screamed _danger!_ in his ear.

“Yes. It seems they’re already on their way. Coming to inspect Kemet’s king.”

There was a dark tone to his voice. “But… why now?” Atemu had not been king for many seasons, true, but the time for introductions had long since passed.

“Word has reached them of some weakness, perhaps, some chink in Kemet’s armour.”

 _A chink in_ his _armour, he means,_ thought Yugi. _But who would send such information? Unless…_ “Do you think…” Yugi lowered his voice to a whisper. “Someone… in the palace?”

“Possibly. I have my suspicions,” said Atemu quietly, “but I cannot act without proof.” Yugi darted a nervous glance at the shadows of the garden. “And we have rebels on our borders.”

“Rebels?” he asked. “Where?”

“There was an uprising in Nekhen, before _Wep-renpet_.”

Yugi’s eyes widened. “So that’s why you took us all to Nekhen. To quell those rebels, not -” He bit off the words, flushing. Not on some selfish whim.

“So quick to doubt me, Yugi,” said Atemu with a smirk. “I am disappointed.” Then a quick shrug. “No matter.”

Yugi balanced the tray carefully while Atemu took a few grapes. “So… what about the prince? What will you - I mean, what’s going to happen?”

Pausing, the king’s crimson gaze inspected him. “What would you suggest, Yugi?”

“M-me?” squeaked the scribe.

“You,” affirmed the king, a laughing light in his eyes. “If you were king, say. What would you do?”

Red was fighting a fierce battle over his cheeks. This was a dangerous conversation. One wrong word and the king could have another of those lightning change of moods and he would be thrown on the execution block himself. “I…” Atemu arched a curious eyebrow, waiting. “I suppose that… I would throw a large celebration,” said Yugi slowly. “Make sure that they could see how powerful and wealthy Kemet is. If I could, I would also show them how happy and strong Waset’s people are, under your rule,” he added, but Atemu only snorted at his flattery. “I would show them strength,” he finished.

“Interesting,” murmured the king. When he didn’t elaborate, Yugi tilted his head and asked why. “Because, Small Person,” and Yugi blinked at the endearment, “one of my most trusted advisors said almost exactly the same thing.”

A thrilled smile tugged at Yugi’s mouth. It felt good - more than good - to know that the king might heed his advice, a lowly scribe from Wetjeset-Hor. “Thank you, my lord.”

They spent a moment or two in silence. The twinkling sound of the _sistra_ echoed against the soft hum of the breeze as the girls kept dancing. “So, Yugi,” said Atemu and the scribe snapped to attention. “How are you enjoying Waset, now that my High Priest has left?”

“I…” Yugi didn’t quite know how to respond. “From what I’ve seen of the city,” he said, treading carefully, “it is beautiful. Much larger than what I’m used to. I would like to see more of it, but the palace is so lovely that I sometimes forget where I am. The courtiers, too, are very nice.” Truth be told, he’d barely said two words to the nobles, but they left him well enough alone and that was just fine for Yugi.

“I hear that you get along well with my Sacred Guardians.”

“Yes.” Yugi smiled. “Mahaad especially. He is very kind. And there is Jou, of course.”

“You grew up with him?”

Yugi nodded. It was bizarre, talking like this to the lord and ruler of Kemet, so _normally_ , and yet… and yet, it was easy. “He and I were friends as children. Then he went into the army and I started training to become a scribe. I hadn’t seen him for years before we met at Abu. It’s good to speak to him again,” he said softly.

Atemu smirked, but didn’t look at him. “And your king? What think you of him?”

Flustered, Yugi stared down at his hands where they held onto the tray. “I…” _What kind of question is that?_ “I think that you are…” He swallowed. “You are a great king,” he said. “You care deeply for your people and for Kemet. You…” _You’re the Living Horus._ What else could he say? “You are a brilliant leader.”

The king inclined his head. Yugi relaxed, breathing a silent sigh of relief. “Tomorrow I will not be receiving audiences,” said Atemu suddenly.

“Oh?”

“No.” His lips twitched. “I have been ordered to rest,” he said gravely.

Yugi suppressed a smile. “I see.”

“I need you to take something into Waset.” At that Yugi straightened. “There are a handful of nobles in the city who must be made aware of this prince. Tomorrow I shall send you my instruction. Take some soldiers with you,” he added. “It wouldn’t do to have my personal Sandal-Bearer robbed in my own city.”

Nodding, Yugi tucked a lock of golden hair behind his ears and grinned to himself. Mahaad had told him, not five hours earlier, that they expected a long day tomorrow, one judgement after another. It was a lie - he was sure of it. Atemu was giving him a chance to see more of Waset.

“I understand, my lord.”

With a nod, Atemu dismissed him and Yugi retreated. He went to bed that night confused, thinking more highly of Atemu than ever.


	17. Chapter 17

The next day Yugi woke a few hours after dawn. He stretched, luxuriously. Light noises pattered around the room and Yugi opened his eyes. Ryou was already there, setting out his morning meal. The slave smiled at him. “Good morning, Yugi.”

Grinning, Yugi sat up, rubbing sleep out of his eyes. “Morning.”

“ _Mrau_.” A tiny tabby cat weaved in and out of Ryou’s legs, staring hopefully up at the food.

“Who’s this?” inquired Yugi as he began to dress. The little cat was thin and wiry, her big ears twitching.

Laughing gently, Ryou disentangled himself and tidied Yugi’s bed pallet. It hadn’t taken long at all to get used to having things done for him, but Yugi tried to protest at least once a day. “No idea. She must’ve come in from the kitchen. I called her Neferet.”

“Neferet?”

A faint blush. “She reminds me of a cat I once had back home.”

“Where was that?” asked Yugi carefully, unwilling to trespass on Ryou’s kindness for too long.

Ryou shrugged his narrow shoulders. “Somewhere north of the Great Green, I think. I don’t really remember where I came from.” His brown eyes flickered quickly toward Yugi and away. “My mother died when I was a child. Slavers found me and brought me to a market in Zau. I was traded from master to master as I grew up.” A dark expression crossed his face. “It was… difficult.”

“I’m sorry,” said Yugi, reaching out as if he could soothe that troubled expression away. “It must have been…” he trailed off, unable to imagine the horror that Ryou had gone through. Slavers were ruthless and cruel, more often than not. The softness that Yugi saw in the hidden depths of Ryou’s _ka_ must have been battered and bruised by their touch. He was surprised that it wasn’t broken. “I don’t think I could be that strong.” It was only at Ryou’s startled glance that Yugi realised he had spoken aloud. Ryou smiled, a little uncertainly.

A servant entered his room suddenly, unannounced, carrying two scrolls that were marked with the king’s seal. He bowed low in front of them. Uncomfortable, Yugi greeted him with a quick nod. “What is it?”

“Yugi, Sandal-Bearer and personal servant to the king.” The Scribe could almost sense his hesitation - apart from his new job role, Yugi had no titles, no special lineage. He was a simple peasant scribe.

“Son of Ra Atemu, _nsw-bity_ Akhenre…” The man went on, dutifully listing all of Atemu’s royal names. Yugi looked at Ryou. The slave was biting his lip on a smile.

“What about him?” asked Yugi drolly when the servant had finished.

“He sends these,” holding out the two papyrus scrolls, “and bids you take them into the city. One to the scribe Gechs and the other to Mesech, new governor of Waset.” These scrolls must carry some instruction about the _A’amu_ prince. Curious, Yugi wondered what was in them. Ryou bowed deeply and took the scrolls, passing them straight on to Yugi with an equally curious look. “There are guards waiting at the palace gates,” added the man. “They will escort you through the city.”

Stiffening, Yugi threw a glance at the retreating servant. Perhaps he was over reacting, but that last sentence sound like a warning - or a threat.

x

Waset was a lot hotter and busier than he remembered. A pair of guards flanked him and beside Yugi stood Ryou, carrying the King’s messages. Truth be told, Yugi could’ve taken them himself, carried them in his own hands, but he felt better with Ryou there. Slave or not, Yugi had begun to consider him a close friend.

The other boy held up a running commentary as they walked, pointing out the parts of Waset that he’d seen for Yugi’s interest. The guards herded them towards the administrative district in the centre of the city, where governor of Waset lived and worked. Outside the luxury of the palace, the city felt almost bare by comparison. One thing stood out immediately; Yugi saw barely any gold. The nobles who passed them were decked out in fine cloths and pretty perfumes, but the metals they wore were limited. It was as if the golden tones of the desert sand compensated enough. Even turquoise from Kemet’s mines was scarce here.

_Is Waset… poor?_ wondered Yugi. 

The administrative buildings were squat and ugly. Yugi entered through the main doors, his small entourage following along dutifully. “Excuse me…” said Yugi hesitantly to a passing scribe. The man ignored him, hurrying past on some errand of his own. “Um…” Yugi cast a helpless glance at Ryou, who seemed equally as bewildered. “Maybe you need an appointment…?” Around them were a hundred officials, all scurrying around like ants after honey.

Another administrative scribe walked by and Yugi reached out quickly. “Excuse me,” he said more firmly. “Where is Mesech, the governor?”

At his tone the man paused. He looked at the two guards, the King’s name emblazoned across their pectorals. “In the central hall,” he answered. “Straight down.” Following the pointed finger, Yugi marched right through the building.

Ryou was lagging behind, glancing nervously from left to right. “What’s wrong?” asked Yugi. “Are you all right?”

“I forgot to tell you,” whispered the pale-haired boy. “It’s probably nothing, but when I was near the river the other day, I-”

“Can I help you with something?” Straightening instantly, Yugi whipped around, plastering a serene, authoritative look across his face - something he’d learnt from the cranky high priest.

“Mesech?” Hastily Yugi added, “Overseer of administration and Governor of Waset?” He still hadn’t gotten used to all these titles. Hopefully that would have to do.

Mesech nodded. The man was tall and lean, with eyes as dark and cold as his reptilian namesake. He wore a short wig and carried a wax tablet which he tapped restlessly. “As I said, can I assist you with something?”

“Um, yes.” Yugi took the first scroll from Ryou and presented it to the governor, head bowed. “I, Yugi, personal Sandal-Bearer to the King, am here on his bidding, to pass on this message.” That sounded ridiculously convoluted. He hoped he wouldn’t be sending too many of these messages. _Just take it, and please don’t ask me any questions._

A moment of silence, then the weight lifted. Mesech turned the scroll over in his hands thoughtfully. “I see.” Anxiety or pain had carved deep lines into his forehead and at the edge of his eyes, but the man couldn’t have been more than twice Yugi’s age. Dark eyes looked him over unfathomably. “Was there something else?”

_Dismissed._ “No.” At a loss for anything else to do, Yugi spread his hands in a bow. He uttered some gracious, nonsensical monotone under his breath, but the governor was already stalking off. Shrugging, Yugi turned to Ryou. “I suppose we’re finished here. What was the name of that scribe?”

Gechs lived outside the city, in one of the luxurious garden estates that bordered the river. Here the smell of the water permeated the air, fresh and light, and the wind rustled furtively through the long grasses along the bank. It was beautiful. Yugi wondered if some day he would be able to afford one of these buildings, with its own gardens and an army of servants.

Even as the thought occurred to him, he realised that he didn’t really want it, didn’t yearn for riches the way that most men his age would. Shouldn’t he be more ambitious than this?

The scribe’s house lay close to the riverbank, its walls smothered by trailing green foliage. It was nearing midday and soon the heat would spike. Neither Yugi nor Ryou had yet developed the resistance to withstand the Aten’s rays at its peak. He hoped Gechs would prove more hospitable than the governor.

_It certainly looks nicer,_ thought Yugi, as they were led into the building. In the afternoon light from the west, the garden would be absolutely stunning. Yugi breathed in the scent of the greenery. Once they were inside, it was replaced with the warm, homely smell of baked bread.

The scribe, Gechs, was exactly as he’d expected. Rolls of fat quivered over his belly and oil made his skin was shiny. In effect, he looked like the conventional statues of every scribe Yugi had ever seen: well-fed and indolent. This was what a scribe should be - or at least, what everyone _thought_ scribes should be. Contempt surged through him. Yugi fought not to let it appear on his face. People like _this_ were the ones who gave scribes such a bad reputation for laziness and mistakes.

Steeling himself, Yugi bowed. Toward the edges of the room servants were laying out food for the midday meal. He swallowed past a dry throat. “Royal Scribe Gechs, son of Hyyt, I present a message from the King.” He had forgotten about Atemu’s titles in the administrative building, so he listed them all now, wrestling the strong desire to roll his eyes. When he’d finished, the scribe steepled his fingers under his chin and looked wise. Yugi arched an eyebrow. If this is what Royal Scribes became, perhaps he was better off where he was.

Yugi stood there for a minute holding the scroll. Gechs remained motionless and finally he realised that the man simply wouldn’t get up. Biting his lip on an aggravated sigh, Yugi walked over to his seat and handed him the papyrus. The man gave no response save to take it. He made no further indication that he even noticed their presence. No beer, no refreshments of any kind. It was quite clear that the man wanted them gone.

_Well._ Yugi certainly hadn’t thought that it would be that easy. A quick, shallow bow and they were standing on the other side of the wall. He shook his head. A mere hour, if that. Atemu had released him for the entire day - what was he supposed to do now?

He lifted a hand to shade his eyes, smiling a little. It felt _good_ to be out of the palace. Even Atemu’s garden couldn’t compare to the lush beauty of the river - and to think, only a few weeks ago he’d been wishing heartily for nothing but dry land.

Something touched his arm. “Judgement is coming.” A stranger was staring at him, face intent.

Yugi blinked. _Why me?_ “Um, all right. Thank you,” he said, drawing away.

“Darkness will be unleashed,” said the man, grip tightening on Yugi’s arm. “As the king’s father enacted justice on Kul Elna, so shall we burn.”

“Atemu’s father?” asked Yugi. “What do you mean?”

“Yugi?”

“Darkness will be unleashed,” repeated the stranger. “The golden items will submerge Kemet in darkness.”

“What?”

“Let go of Yugi,” hissed Ryou, prying the man’s fingers off Yugi’s arm.

“Only the souls of the innocent will survive.” The man’s eyes narrowed and Yugi knew instinctively that he was going to strike out.

Quickly he shoved Ryou to the side. A fist flashed out and landed a glancing blow to his shoulder. “Stop!” shouted Yugi, ducking another hit. Immediately the two guards seized the man and began to forcibly drag him back. 

“The righteous shall prevail,” he spat, eyes alight with a fire Yugi didn’t understand. “In the name of Amun, chaos will reign triumphant!”

Silent and tense, the two guards - the ones whose presence Yugi had dismissed as unnecessary - hauled him away, out of sight.

Trembling, Yugi ran a hand through his hair. “What was that?”

“A zealot,” said Ryou, looking as unnerved as Yugi felt. “Too devoted to his cause.”

Brows drawn, Yugi stared after the man. “What did he mean about the king’s father?”

People were running past him. Confusion overtaking the street. It was chaos. Yugi was thrust to the side as a sudden surge of people made eagerly for the river. He caught quickly at someone’s shoulder to steady himself. “I’m sorry, the crowd-” Two russet eyes glared at him from beneath an unruly mop of white-blond hair. “Ryou?” blurted Yugi, but as soon as the word left his mouth he knew he was mistaken - the man’s face was wrong, the skin darker. Another surge of the crowd and the man disappeared.

Yugi turned and saw Ryou. He looked shaken, grey like he’d seen an _akh_ spirit. “Ryou?”

“I-”

A woman’s scream rent the air. Hastily, Yugi pushed his way to the front of the crowd.

Kneeling on the grass was a woman, tears pouring down her face and mouth twisted in grief. In her arms lay a young man, perfectly, eerily still. His skin was tinged from the water, bloated, but it was the intricate markings on his body which shook Yugi to his core.

Someone - some _thing_ , for this couldn’t have been done by anyone sane - had carved hieroglyphs _into his chest_. They were scored deep into the man’s skin, individual words mixed with foreign, indecipherable symbols.

Bile rose in his throat and Yugi had to cover his mouth. _Oh Gods… Isis, Mother of us all…_

_What is happening?_

__

x

End of Part I


	18. Chapter 18

  
Part II: Peret, The Growing

_The King and the Scribe_

_x_  


It had taken a long time for Yugi to get to sleep that night - visions of the mauled figure danced before him whenever he closed his eyes. That woman who’d been weeping - she had come to the audience chamber seeking help for her husband. He must have wondered off, somehow, and captured. _But who would_ do _such a thing?_

A weight pulled at the hem of his _shenti_ and Yugi reached down to pet Neferet’s ear absently. The little cat visited him regularly, looking for scraps. Ryou kept coming by, too, offering to stay and keep him company. He glanced down at the little cat and smiled at her. “Jou would berate me if I stayed in here all day.” Besides, a walk around the palace would do him good. Stretching, Yugi got to his feet and peered into the corridor. The king’s quarters lay down one path. Yugi turned in the opposite direction.

The slap of his sandals echoed in the silence. _If Jou were here, he’d…_ Yugi cut that thought short. It was no use wishing for things: he had to be stronger than that. Everyone had to be alone at some part of their lives.

That didn’t make it feel any better.

“Look out!” Someone bumped into him with all the force of a desert storm.

Yugi ducked as a huge pile of papyrus came tumbling down on him. “Hey!”

“Sorry!” Quick, small hands brushed at his clothes. “Sorry, sorry - are you all right?” Wide blue eyes blinked at him.

“I’m fine,” he said, rustling his hair back up with his fingers. It was a girl, perhaps a few years younger than himself, with wild brown hair and a sparkling grin. He smiled. “Are these yours?”

“Oh no, my scrolls!” Clapping a hand to her forehead, she muttered an imaginative curse. “I’m so late - Mahaad’s going to kill me!”

“Mahaad?” Bending, Yugi helped her to gather up the scrolls. She piled them up in her arms until they obscured the top of her head. “Here,” said Yugi, swallowing a laugh. “Let me help.”

“Oh, thank you! Are you sure you don’t mind?” Without waiting for an answer, she deposited the whole lot into Yugi’s arms.

“Um…”

“That’s brilliant, thanks Yugi!” She strode off along the corridor and Yugi had to jog to keep up, juggling the papyrus in his arms. 

“How did you know my name?”

“Oh, everyone knows everything around here.” She caught sight of his expression and giggled. “I mean, the palace is a world in itself, but it’s not a very big one.”

He shifted the scrolls in his arms. “That’s true.” News seemed to spread like wildfire in this place. “How do you know Mahaad?”

“I’m his apprentice. This way,” she added, pulling him into a side corridor.

“Apprentice?”

There was a skip in her step as she walked. “I’m training to be a court magician,” she said proudly. “Mahaad’s teaching me about magic and ma’at. Some day I want to serve the King himself.”

“That’s… amazing.” This girl could be one of the most powerful people in Kemet and she was barely his age.

“I know.” Her grin was endearing.

“How long have you been training?”

“Too long,” she said and deflated a little. “I should be much better by now, but I’m so damn clumsy! Mahaad has the patience of Isis to put up with me.”

“I’m sure that’s not true,” replied Yugi, more polite than honest.

“He does! And he’s so calm, and so good at magic! I don’t know how I’ll ever be good enough.” More accolades to Mahaad tripped off her tongue and Yugi smiled. “Oh, this is it!” They turned through a door into a wide room. Mahaad stood there, arms crossed, talking quietly to another tall man. “Karim!” greeted Mana cheerfully. “Master Mahaad, I’ve brought the scrolls.”

Karim greeted Yugi respectfully. Both the Ring and the Scales omitted an odd kind of hum at the edge of his hearing, pressure against his ears. Yugi nodded to both of them, but when Mahaad turned to invite him in, he smiled and declined. The power of the Sennen items lurked dark and forbidding in Mahaad’s study and Yugi left as quickly as he could.

In his room, he watched the Aten plunge into the horizon. Reds and oranges shot through the sky. Yugi huddled under his blanket and fell into a troubled sleep.

x

A meeting was called early the next day, and he took his place beside the king’s throne in the chill morning air. The flood waters were receding, and the farmers had begun to plant their crops. Atemu ordered libations to Hapi, god of the inundation.

“Good morning, my lord,” said Siamon, bowing low at their feet. The king inclined his head.

Yugi linked his arms behind his back, fingering the soft cloth of his shenti. He blinked away a yawn and watched the Qenbet come together on the cool stone floor.

“Has there been news following the attack?” Yugi winced. He had tried to banish the memory of that incident from his mind, but he knew that the sight of those markings would haunt him for the rest of his life.

“Nothing yet, my lord.” All of the men looked worried, like a dark cloud had descended over the day. Even the king was tense, gripping the arms of his throne with ivory knuckles. Yugi shifted, tried to look as supportive as he could in silence.

“The prince of the _A’amu_ has crossed the border into Kemet,” said Karim. His brows were furrowed. “He will be here soon.”

“The fortresses watch him closely,” said Mahaad. “We should plan for his welcome.”

The king glanced at Yugi, half-sly. “We should display our strength,” he said. “Ensure that the prince leaves with an impression of Kemet’s power.” Yugi smiled and ducked his head. A flush of pride stole through his chest.

“It will put a great deal of pressure on the people,” murmured Siamon, his hand underneath his chin.

“We will need to forewarn them, perhaps ease the taxes for a time,” suggested Mahaad.

The king said nothing dismissive, and let them begin preparations for the festivities. At that point Yugi straightened. He took a cup of beer to His Majesty’s chair and stood there patiently while the king drank. Atemu turned his head slightly to regard him. “Are you fond of games, Yugi?” he asked. _Games?_ Yugi nodded. “Excellent,” said the king, smirking. “Bring a _senet_ board to my rooms with the midday meal. I will at least be able to pass my afternoon pleasantly.” Yugi acquiesced with ill-concealed excitement. He hadn’t played in almost a season. And, although he had beaten Set on the boat, weeks ago, he imagined that the king would be a much more devious opponent.

The king interrupted his advisors to order the High Priest back to the capital. Yugi grinned, knowing that Jou would be hot on his heels. Atemu concluded the meeting and dismissed them all.

Yugi marched quickly down to the kitchens, eagerly anticipating the game. When he entered, the servants immediately quietened, drawing back from his presence. “Ryou.”

The pale-haired boy came over at once, raising a curious eyebrow as Yugi began assembling food. “What are you doing?”

“I’m going to take this to the king’s quarters for the midday meal,” he answered. There was an abundance of fish and bread, but not as much fruit as Yugi had gotten used to, living in the Great House. Too early in the season, perhaps. It took him a few minutes to realise that Ryou was silent. The slave was helping him, but frowning darkly as he did so. “Ryou? Is something wrong?”

“I…” He hesitated. “I’m just concerned.”

“What do you mean?” asked Yugi.

Ryou glanced around him and lowered his voice. “For you, ma- Yugi. Is it safe, to be alone with the king?”

“Don‘t worry, Ryou,” he said, picking up the tray and beckoning for a young servant to carry the senet box. “I will try not to deliberately antagonise him.”

Sighing, the slave shook his head. “That’s not exactly what I meant,” he murmured. Yugi ignored him, striding toward the king’s quarters and planning his _senet_ game strategy.


	19. Chapter 19

_x_

Atemu’s quarters were more luxurious than anything Yugi had ever seen. They were laden with gold and silk and bold, beautiful colours. The walls were covered in murals and vivid paintings. Yugi stood at the entrance, waiting humbly for permission to enter.

“Come,” drawled the king’s voice. Yugi walked cautiously into the first room, trailed by the kitchen slave. Warm breezes drifted in from a balcony, bringing the scent of lotus and jasmine - the king’s garden. Yugi waited while the slave place the _senet_ board - golden, topped with stylised counters - and the food between two ebony, lion-pawed chairs, then dismissed him with a nod. The king strode in and immediately the splendour of the gold and coloured walls dimmed in comparison. “Yugi.” He curled his fingers around one of the chairs, set slightly higher than the other. “Be seated.”

Tense, Yugi sat in the chair opposite. “Thank you, Majesty.”

The king folded into his own chair, leaning back and watching Yugi. “The guards tell me of your bravery in the city.” Bemused, Yugi stared at him. “The attack,” he clarified.

“Oh.” Yugi shook his head. “I… I did nothing, my lord. Truly,” he added, hoping the man wouldn’t think him some kind of over-ambitious courtier.

A hand waved away his protests. “You protected the slave. For the second time, if I recall correctly; I can well imagine your courage,” he said. “You seem to have a habit of making yourself a nuisance, Small Person.” Pleased at the praise, backhanded thought it was, Yugi ducked his head. He was so close to the king that a mere few cubits separated them. Yugi avoided the other man’s gaze, fiddling with his shenti, with the arms of his chair, with the bangle around his wrist. Anything to distract himself from the nerves coiling in his stomach. Atemu was watching him, clearly at ease. “Is that one _shenti_ all that you own, Sandal Bearer?” he said finally, arching an eyebrow. “I wonder if perhaps I am not granting my servants enough of their wages to keep themselves adequately clothed?”

“It’s not that, my lord!” responded Yugi at once. “I just… haven’t found anything to wear, yet, that really means something to me.” Yugi winced. No danger of sounding like an over-ambitious anything, there, just an idiot.

“And this?” He gestured to the thin wooden bangle around Yugi’s wrist.

“This was a gift from Ryou.”

“Your slave?” A flush darkened Yugi’s cheekbones. Slaves didn’t offer gifts to their masters. “I agree,” he added and Yugi’s gaze darted up. “Gifts should be memorable.” Yugi eyed the many golden cuffs and collars which adorned the king and wondered what significance they held.

One tanned hand reached out and picked up the sticks. With a roguish look, Atemu tossed them onto the board and they began to play. Yugi turned his focus to the game. It was some time later when the king leant over and stole a grape, popping it between his teeth. Yugi’s own mouth went dry and he realised what time it was. “Are you hungry, Yugi?”

“No, I-” His stomach growled a protest. Yugi flushed again and shifted in his chair.

“Here,” said the king, holding out the plate of food. Grateful, Yugi reached out for a small piece of bread and smiled thankfully at Atemu. The king blinked. “Strange,” he murmured, almost inaudible. “Your eyes are… almost violet.” Then his eyelids swept down and the odd moment was gone. Yugi swallowed nervously, turning his attention back to the game. The king made no demur over the food, so Yugi took advantage of his generosity and ate as much as he could. A thrill went through him: he was almost at the first of the game’s obstacles. Atemu was hot on his tail. “Be careful,” warned the king, as if reading his mind. For a wild moment Yugi wondered if he could. “You are approaching the river.”

Yugi, feeling more relaxed in the king’s presence than ever before, merely smiled. “Hail Sobek,” he teased. “Allow me to pass, unhindered.”

“We will see,” replied the king with arched eyebrows. Yugi chuckled under his breath. He moved on another two squares. Atemu reached out for his own piece just as Yugi drew his hand back. Their fingers grazed and Yugi repressed a shiver. “You are far too pale,” murmured the king.

“My lord?” asked Yugi. Had he heard correctly? He was too _pale_?

“You should leave the House more often, Yugi. You need to build a resistance to the Aten.”

Parting his lips, Yugi first felt a touch of frustration, when he thought that it was the king who kept him here. Then he remembered his kindness on sending him out. Tentative, Yugi smirked at the king. “I don’t think that would be wise, my lord.”

“Oh?”

“Mm.” He debated over his _senet_ pieces. “You may need me while I’m gone.”

Atemu threw his head back and laughed. Smiling sheepishly, Yugi waited. “I would be sorely used,” said the king, grinning widely. “If I were to gain a hole in my sandal with you nowhere to be seen.”

That drew laughter out of Yugi. He shook his head. “I imagine you will be pleased when Set returns,” he said after a moment. Then Atemu overtook his final piece and he frowned.

“Indeed.” The king threw a look at Yugi. “And I am sure that you will feel the same, once you have Jou beside you again. The two of you seem inseparable,” he said, lightly.

Yugi tilted his head. “I am not quite sure…” _Is that wrong of me?_

The man waved it off. “If you can amuse yourself by keeping out of trouble, so much the better. It is your turn, Yugi.”

“Ah.” He threw again and, to his surprise, he jumped right off the board, winning the game. He caught his breath. “I won.” Yugi glanced up. The king wove his fingers together under his chin and watched him. Yugi narrowed his eyes. “You let me win,” he accused.

Raised eyebrows. “I did no such thing.” Unconvinced, Yugi turned narrowed his eyes. “Shall we play again?”

“I…” He wanted to. Despite how unnerving it was, sitting this close to the king and talking to him like any other man, Yugi disliked the thought of going to back to his room to sit and do nothing.

“I have nothing better to do for the rest of this tenday,” said Atemu, stretching out his long legs. “At least this one afternoon will pass more quickly.”

Hesitantly, Yugi agreed and he set up the board again. “You should do this more often,” he suggested as he worked. The courtiers could benefit from this kind of unguarded moment with the king.

Crimson eyes glittered and the king pounced on his suggestion. “You’re right, Yugi. Come back tomorrow,” he ordered, dropping that tone into his voice that demanded instant obedience. “And bring a _senet_ board.”

Yugi couldn’t see any other option but to agree. He sat back in his chair, waiting for the king’s move. If he was honest with himself, he wasn’t nearly as reluctant about returning as he probably should be.

_x_


	20. Chapter 20

Merwt’i stood in the shadows of the garden, his light-coloured eyes filled with an emotion that set Yugi on edge. To the side were other slaves, serving the king and fluttering around him with false smiles. Yugi preferred the king’s room, secluded and more private. At least there he wasn’t watched by so many people.

“Cast the sticks, Yugi.” Yugi jumped and shook off his mood. The House was growing tense, waiting for news of the prince. The Qenbet were busy planning his reception and the king - the king spent most of his time playing _senet_ with Yugi. “We have a third player,” murmured the king.

“What?” Yugi glanced down. Neferet sat on the ground, flicking her tail from side to side. She tilted her head and mewed softly. “Good afternoon,” said Yugi to her, tickling her ear. She batted a paw at him.

“A friend of yours?”

“Yes.” The cat stretched languidly and wove her way around Atemu’s legs, unafraid even of the Living Horus. “This is Neferet. She comes to visit me sometimes.”

Atemu spared her a quick, cursory scratch. “Tell me, Yugi. Who do you pray to? Ra? The almighty Amun?”

The turn in conversation took him by surprise. “I pray to all of them,” replied Yugi, stiffly. _What is he trying to say?_

“And your favourite?”

He hesitated. “I suppose… Djeheuty.”

“Of course,” murmured the king. He was watching Yugi more than the board. “God of the scribes and peace of the gods. And Djeheuty is a lord of the moon.” Dark eyes flickered over Yugi’s face. “I can see the resemblance.” 

“And you?” said Yugi, uncomfortable under the king’s attention. “Which is your favourite?”

“Atum,” answered the other man instantly. According to the priests of Yunu, Atum was the first to step out of the primordial waters. He had brought into being both Shu and Tefnut - simply by pleasuring himself. Yugi’s mouth formed an _o_. The grin that curled Atemu’s lips was wicked. “Indeed.”

“Your namesake?” he asked, flushed to the roots of his hair. The king’s birth name suggested absolute power, a dark light in black shadow. _Atem_. Jou addressed him so. Yugi was certain he could never address the king so - so _intimately._

“Yes.” Yugi, too, could see the resemblance. Beautiful as the desert… and just as deadly. “And ,of course, I revere the Aten.” The Great Disc. Atemu’s family included it among their murals, more so than any of the previous kings. Through its rays, the Aten bequeathed to the king the breath of life. Heat and light. _But Atemu is like shadow_ , thought Yugi privately. _Dark and warm and infinitely seductive_. “Here.” Atemu was sliding one of his leather cuffs down his arm. He held it out to Yugi.

Bemused, the scribe took it, turning it over in his hands. The leather was soft and supple. “My lord?”

Atemu had turned back to the game. “For protection.”

Yugi saw that the king’s throne name, Akhenre, had been engraved into the leather. He clutched it with tight fingers. “Thank you,” he replied. Although the band had fit snugly on Atemu’s lower arm, on Yugi it went right up to his bicep.

“Better,” said the king. One side of his mouth was turning up and Yugi stared at it suspiciously. “Now you have two.”

“You seem pleased.”

“Of course,” purred Atemu. “I’m winning.”

_x_

The following day Yugi woke to find a dark granite statue of Djeheuty sitting in his quarters. He knew, without looking, who had sent it. One glance from Ryou said that the slave knew it too. Yugi flushed.

One part of him was inclined to send it back. It was too much. This was the king. The other part thought it was far too beautiful to send back. Eventually, Yugi placed it with his scribal palette, where it looked so at home he couldn’t have given it back if he tried.

Ryou padded around his quarters, straightening and tidying until finally Yugi ushered him out into the palace. They strolled through the corridors, up to the Coronation Hall where Yugi had first entered the palace.

“The General has arrived.” Ryou nodded to the courtyard.

“Jou?” Yugi threaded his way through the lotus columns and stood in the shade of the house. Set dismounted from a tall horse, dark smudges under his eyes. His cheeks looked more hollow than Yugi remembered. In a chariot just behind him was Jou, covered in dust and grinning.

Servants came for their horses and the high priest strode toward the Great House immediately. “Hey, wait! Jou threw the reins away and trotted after him. “Yugi!” His grin widened. Set spared him a quick glance out of those vivid eyes and passed him without a word. Raising his eyebrows, Yugi exchanged a glance with Ryou. Then Jou enveloped him in a hug. “Yugi!” His arms had more strength than Yugi’s upper body and he squeaked. “You’ve gotten fatter.”

“Hey.” Yugi shoved him off. “You’ve just been gone too long.”

“That’s true. Nothing in that temple but priests.” Jou ran a hand through his hair and grimaced. “I need to wash. Are you with the king tonight?” Yugi shook his head. “Come to my rooms this evening, then?”

“That sounds great.” He smiled. “You can tell me about the temple.”

The soldier stuck his tongue out. “No thanks. You tell me about the palace.”

“All right. You have a deal.”

Jou rustled his hair as he passed. “Still have hair, I see.”

“No thanks to you.”

“Ryou, you work in the kitchens, right?”

Surprised, Ryou glanced at Yugi first before he answered. “Y-yes.”

“There was this girl who worked there, last season I think, with these really blue eyes…” Yugi sighed. _Some things never change._

It was almost mid-day. Yugi returned to his quarters and put on the leather armlet that Atemu had given him, tracing the engraved hieroglyphs. Once the worst of the heat had passed, he took a selection of fruits to the king’s rooms. It took him a few minutes to set up the board in what Yugi was quickly coming to think of as its usual spot. Then Yugi stood, waiting.

Atemu was nowhere in sight. Yugi hadn’t seen the king since their game in the garden the day before. The chair beckoned to him. Sighing, Yugi tipped his head back and stared at the ceiling. No matter how easy it was becoming, talking to the king, Yugi had no doubt that sitting in Atemu’s chair without permission would not be accepted so easily.

Finally, when Yugi was thinking about leaving, the king entered. Instantly Yugi snapped to attention, but something stopped him from leaping forward. “Good evening, nsw,” he said quietly, for it was already growing cooler.

“No games tonight, Yugi,” said Atemu and Yugi squashed his disappointment. Atemu’s voice was weary; exhausted.

“As you wish, Majesty.” Atemu removed the heavy circlet from around his head, following by the gold earrings and his elaborate pectoral. Yugi hesitated. He hadn’t been told to leave, but nor had the king given any indication that he should stay. Yugi took a step deeper into the room. “Is there anything I can get you, my lord?”

“No.” With a sigh, Atemu sprawled across the bed and threw one arm over his eyes. That should have been his signal to leave, but Yugi felt reluctant. From the balcony came the soft murmur of the wind and the heady perfume of the gardens. Torchlight flickered over the walls and through the lengthening shadows.

Cautiously, Yugi stepped up to the foot of the golden bed. “How was your day, _Per-a’ah_?” he asked, undoing the delicate straps of Atemu’s sandals.

“The prince is on his way. My people must prepare for it.”

Yugi removed the other sandal and placed them both carefully on the floor. There was something forlorn and almost lonely about the king lying there. “Is there anything I can do?”

“Only if you’re as skilled with your hands as you are at games,” answered the king.

“Ah…” Yugi had never been very good at massages. Even Jou, when his muscles were in agony after training, had gone out of his way to find a woman rather than submit to Yugi’s untrained touch. “I could send for one of the girls?”

The king removed his arm, propping it under his head. Fine lines sat between his brows but he smiled at Yugi. “You should learn more, Yugi. Then I would have no need to keep exchanging my servants.”

“I…” Tentative, Yugi touched just the tips of his fingers to Atemu’s muscled calf. “You could teach me?”

Atemu’s eyes narrowed. “I would teach you a lot more than that,” he replied, roughly. “But the General is in the palace and I have much to think on tonight.”

Thwarted and a little disappointed, Yugi inclined his head. He tucked his traitorous hands behind him. “Thank you - for the statue.”

“You are welcome.” He was watching Yugi again. “I do not think I will ever understand you, Small Person. Have you seen Jou?” he added, before Yugi could do more than frown.

“I’ll see him now.”

Atemu closed his eyes. “Take the day tomorrow. Now that Set has returned, I will be too busy for any more games, I think.”

“Are you sure, my lord?” _No_ senet _games_ , thought Yugi with regret, but the prospect of spending an entire day with Jou cheered him.

“Any longer and I may change my mind.”

Smiling, Yugi bowed. “Thank you, nsw.” A flick of the king’s fingers and Yugi bounced out of the room.

_x_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YUGI TOUCHED THE KING. O.O


	21. Chapter 21

__

x

Jou’s quarters were lined with linens and raw silks. Tangible comforts, though he had little possessions. “Yugi.” Jou was relaxing on a heap of cushions on the floor. “Finally.”

Slaves had already laid out a selection of food that made Yugi’s mouth water. Pigeon and stewed beef, along with a variety of root vegetables and fruits. He sat cross-legged opposite Jou and dipped his hands into a basin of water to wash them. “I’m sorry. Atem was late getting to his rooms.”

Jou, too, dipped his fingers in the water and tore at the food. “Atem, eh? I know,” he went on, before Yugi could do more than flush. “Set was eager to speak to him.” He poured Yugi some wine, strong and heady.

“He looked exhausted.” Yugi swallowed a mouthful of sizzling pigeon and reached quickly for another.

“Doesn’t Atemu keep you fed and happy, then?” asked Jou, with a grin that took away the bite.

Yugi gave him an exasperated look. “How was _Ipet-iswt_?”

“Urgh. Priests. Set. Worship.”

“And that’s bad?” asked Yugi, leaning back on the cushions. Everyone in court ate on chairs or stools, only those of lower social status ate on the floor. As a Royal Sandal-Bearer, Yugi usually ate on a stool. He missed the floor.

“Yes. All I had to do was listen to that idiot complain.”

“How is he?”

“He has Sekhmet’s own temper.” A scowl darkened his expression. Yugi tactfully decided not to ask any more questions about the high priest. “How’s Waset, then, compared to home?” asked Jou. “Miss it?”

With a jolt, Yugi realised that home, now, was the palace. If he was sent back to Wetjeset-Hor he would be dismayed. Jou, the House, Ryou - the king - were all part of him, now. “Is it terrible to say no?”

“Told you, this place has a way of changing people. You’re one of us now.”

“That doesn’t sound so bad.” Jou ran a hand through his hair and didn’t reply. “What is it?”

“The _A’amu_ prince is in Kemet. Things will change once he’s here.” A quick shrug. “Atemu can’t risk war with rebels in the desert. No matter what.”

Something cold ran down the back of Yugi’s neck. “Do you think it would come to that? War?”

“I know this prince by reputation. If he sees a chink, a weakness - he’ll leap on it.” Jou’s brown eyes were as grim as his voice. “Atemu has to be flawless .”

“Then he will be.” Atemu could accomplish anything.

Jou’s eyebrows dipped down in the middle. “We’ll see. Have you beaten Atem at _senet_ yet?” Yugi obediently related his first game with the king and Jou told him about the last few years he’d spent as General and Right Hand of the King. In a few hours, the light had darkened to the point that they needed lamps to see by. “What are you doing tomorrow?” asked Jou.

Yugi shrugged. “Nothing. The king doesn’t need me.”

“Great, I need to get of the House for a while.”

“What? You’ve only been here a day!”

“A day too long.” Jou got to his feet, stretching. “Meet me tomorrow for a ride?”

Thrilled, Yugi stood up. “Really?” He hadn’t been on a horse in years. “I’d love to.”

Yawning, Jou bid him good night and Yugi wandered back to his quarters. He thought of _Ipt-swt_ , the Great Temple, and wondered if he would see it. What would he do, after his service to the king?

Eventually, close to dawn, Yugi dreamt. He saw a priest in a pure white _shenti_ , wearing the black and gold head of Anubis. Embalming tools lay on a table beside him, dull and crusted with blood. The carved muzzle swung toward him. Yugi shivered, staring up at its painted eyes. He was lying on a hard, wooden table. The shadows whispered, taunted him. Then that painted eye blinked. Its pupil stared back at him, a shining, dark intelligence deep within its gaze. The velvet nose twitched. Out of the darkness, a hand reached for him.

Yugi bolted upright. His body was chilled and damp from sweat. Gulping in a few quick breaths, Yugi dragged his hands over his face. _Dream, it was just a dream._ It wasn’t real. Anubis was not reaching out for his heart. _Just a dream_. By Amun, though, what a dream.

It was cold. The sun had risen and _Peret_ was in full swing. He grinned. Jou would be in the courtyard with the horses. Throwing off the light blanket he wore, Yugi leapt out of bed. His dream disappeared into wisps of the dawn.

Jou was waiting outside with a pair of horses. They stood tall, flaring their nostrils and stamping. “Morning,” greeted Jou. He passed the lead of the shorter horse over to Yugi. “Her name’s Duat . I borrowed these from the stables. They’re Atemu’s favourites.”

Instantly Yugi blanched. “They’re… _Atemu’s_ favourites?”

“Relax, Yugi.” He mounted the second horse in one swift, easy movement. “He won’t be out all day.”

Yugi eyed his horse warily. She snorted softly into his hand. “All right, then, Duat.” Yugi mounted and settled into his seat. He was so used to camels and caravans - not to mention ships - that he had almost forgotten what it was like to ride. “It’s been a long time,” he said, awkward and very far away from the ground.

“We’ll take it easy. They’re used to the chariot.” Jou wheeled his horse round, letting it prance for a few minutes. Duat shook her mane but remained still between Yugi’s legs. Yugi gathered up the thin leather reins and squeezed his thighs. She responded instantly, trotting forward toward the gate, her ears pricked.

In the east the sky was streaked with reds and golds, obscuring the stars. A thud of hooves and Jou reigned in next to him. “So,” asked Yugi, breathing in the cool air. “Where are we going?”

“Down to the river, then we‘ll eat.”

Waset was busy, but peaceful, as if no one was sufficiently awake to carry a conversation. They rode west through the streets, taking their time. Jou pointed out the buildings they passed, some of which Yugi recognised from his walk into the city. Once they were out of the main town, the buildings became larger and everything became greener.

“Have you ever seen the Great Green?” asked Yugi curiously. He couldn’t imagine what it would look like, water spread out to the horizon with no land in sight.

“Yeah. It’s….” He gestured to the river. “Like that, only… bigger. Hard to explain.”

“I’d like to see it,” said Yugi, wistfully. But he would miss the desert. On the other side of the river he could see the mountains of _Ta-sekhet-Ma’at_ , a sandy silhouette in the sky.

“It takes a long time to get up there, too,” added Jou. “Not to mention coming back.” Someday, perhaps. When he could afford to make the trip. “Let’s go this way.”

“What?”

Jou had turned off the main path. He twisted around and grinned at Yugi. “Race you to the riverbank!”

“Wait!” he shouted, but Jou was already off. Duat whinnied, eager to follow. His mount leaped forward with barely a nudge. She broke into an easy gallop and the length of her mane whipped his eyes. They were moving so fast that the grass seemed to blur beneath him.

Jou was sitting back among the reeds at the river’s edge. He had found a small, shaded spot, sheltered by trees. Yugi dismounted and they ate in silence, watching the ripples of the Nile. By now Atemu would have risen and would be in session with his Guardians. Yugi wondered how he was faring, if he would return as exhausted as he had the previous day.

“I wonder how Atemu’s doing,” said Jou aloud, echoing his thoughts. “We’re flanked by enemies, one on our border and one within it.”

Yugi swallowed. He’d forgotten. There were rebels in the desert, too, but Atemu couldn’t fight them off when a prince was travelling through Kemet. Yugi recalled Jou’s words over their meal the night before. _If the prince does see a weakness, while we’re fighting our battles away in the desert…_

“And the trouble with those damn toys.”

“Toys? What toys?”

“Ah, I forget that you haven’t been here that long, Yugi.” He leant back on his hands. “I mean the golden items the Guardians wear. The king’s puzzle.”

A shiver overtook Yugi. He knew them well. “What about them?”

“They use some kind of magic, I don’t know much about it,” he explained, shrugging. “But there’s rumours of the same kind being used out in the west, in Desheret. Set’s worried there might be another Shadow War.”

“A Shadow War?” All wars were bad, but the way Jou said this sent a chill of foreboding through Yugi.

“They were used under Atemu’s father, Akhenamkhanen. If it‘s true, Atemu will need to stop it.”

Yugi swallowed. The thought of Atem, alone against a faceless wall of shadows frightened Yugi more than he wanted to admit.

__

x


	22. Chapter 22

  
Interlude

_The Priest and the Soldier_

_x_   


The A’amu prince was drawing ever closer to the City. Set stared up at the stars, struggling to see anything in their pattern. _I will speak to Isis again, he thought. She must know more than she is telling._ The priestess had only given him the smallest details, nothing that would indicate Yaqarum’s true reason for braving Kemet. Nothing to indicate how he would leave.

Set shifted. The palace guards were tense and the entire House was on edge. Jou needed to ensure that their army was ready. At the thought of the General, Set’s teeth ground together. He was stingingly aware of the man at all times, like harsh desert sand. It was perhaps this awareness which made his absence more glaring. Snarling, Set cast another glance at the sky. Almost dawn. Jou was late.

He spun around and marched out of the hall. Frustration rolled beneath his skin, carrying him quickly through the House. Set strode directly into Jou’s quarters - _no guards,_ he thought, _foolish and dangerous_ \- sweeping aside a long swathe of matted reeds. “It is almost dawn, what do you think -”

With a shriek, the girl straddling Jou’s hips stumbled off the bed. Growling, Jou rose onto his elbows. _Amun_ , he was still hard. “What the - Set!?”

The priest jerked his head away, glaring at some indistinct point of the room. “You are late,” he said distinctly. Heat flooded through his cheeks and he cursed. He was not a child. Why was it that only Jou had this effect on him? He heard grumbling and chanced another look. Jou was standing, now, and the girl was dressed. Jou slapped her ass and she scurried out of the room, throwing Set a wary blue glance as she passed. “I summoned you before dawn.”

“So you did,” replied Jou, stretching.

“Then why are you late?” he hissed.

“Men - _normal_ men - have needs, High Priest, and unless you want to see to mine yourself, I think it is in your best interest to ‘summon’ me after dawn.”

Flushing, Set crossed his arms. “Prince Yaqarum will arrive in a few days,” he snapped. “We must meet with the king to prepare for his arrival.”

“I am spending the day with Yugi.” The warrior slung a fraying _shenti_ around his waist. “I will do whatever Atem wants me to do with the prince, save killing him.” He paused. “Though I could be persuaded to do that as well. But since you’ve ruined my morning, I’m not in a very persuadable mood.”

“You can fuck the harem girls on your own time,” spat Set. “Not on mine.”

Jou shrugged, grinning suddenly. “Ah, well, it makes no difference. She’s angry at me, anyway.”

“Oh?” asked Set, not really caring. “Why is that?”

“I tried to make her shave her head.”

__

x

Atemu stood on a small balcony overlooking his garden. The high priest stood behind him, hands folded behind his back. He pressed his lips together and hoped Jou was miserable. “The Prince will arrive within ten days, _hm’i_ ,” he said. The king hummed an acknowledgement. “We should prepare the Great House for his arrival…”

“Indeed.”

Squashing his irritation, Set kept his eyes on the man’s face. Atemu’s every word was calculated and, not for the first time, Set wished he knew what game they were supposed to be playing. “I will speak to the other Guardians,” he said. “We will arrange for a reception.” The king was clearly not listening to him. Set eyed the waving fronds and lush vegetation in the garden. “I understand that Yugi remains as your Sandal-Bearer,” he said, phrasing his words carefully. Atemu was in a genial mood now, but his temper was infamous.

The man inclined his head. “That is so.”

“Majesty, are you sure that is wise?” asked Set. “He has no training, no experience. His father was an army scribe-”

“You are the last person to speak to me of nobility as a birth right, Set.”

Set stopped. He wet his lips. “It was not my intention, _Per-a’ah_. I only wish to assure myself of your safety.” _And Yugi’s._

“My safety is assured, priest. You may rest easy,” said Atemu. “Speak to Ankhtifi. He will assist you with the preparations in the House.” Set grimaced. The man was brilliant when it came to his craft - delicate with stone and gems alike - but he was insufferable in person.

“Is that necessary, my lord? I can just as easily-”

“And direct him to make a new collar,” interrupted the king. “Amethyst and pearls.”

Amethyst - one of the most valued stones in Kemet - and pearls from the Great Green. And Set didn’t need to guess who it was for. He couldn’t yet tell what the king’s relationship with Yugi was, but a ludicrously expensive collar would give Atemu a weapon the scribe did not know how to defend against. It was only a matter of time before Yugi relinquished his heart into Atemu’s keeping. What happened after that was entirely down to Atemu. The high priest bowed. “As you wish, _Per-a’ah_.”

Set knew Atemu. Whatever happened next would not bode well for the young scribe.


	23. Chapter 23

_x_

This was the place Merwt’i had shown him. The section of the Palace forbidden to servants. He hadn’t meant to walk this far. _It can’t be that important,_ he thought, _if there are no guards here._ There weren’t, this time. The corridor was empty. He bit down on his thumb.

 _Just a quick look_ , he decided. Yugi strode down the corridor, keeping his head high and his arms steady at his sides. If anyone asked, he was looking for the king. He was the man’s servant, after all. That was more than enough reason to be looking for him.

The path turned into a series of wide stairs. There were no windows in this part of the Great House and as Yugi went down, the light dimmed. At the base of the stairs the corridor opened up into a large, windowless hall, lit only by torches. The stone was so cold under his feet that the feeling bit through his sandals. He paused, staring up at the roof. He must be somewhere underneath the rest of the palace.

There was a flash; a cone of white shot up from the centre of the room. “What-?” Something formed within it, some kind of creature. Yugi took a step back, his arms coming up across his body automatically to defend himself. _A demon!_ Another one appeared. There were figures on the floor; people. Karim and Set. He paused, unfolding a little - his back was pressed against the wall, cold and damp. _Set?_ “What is this?” he whispered.

On one side of the hall sat the king. He was watching. Part of Yugi wanted to run, flee back along the corridor. The other part of him - the stronger part - wanted to understand. Keeping a wary eye on the battle, Yugi crept slowly toward the king’s throne. “M-my lord.” Atemu acknowledged him with a quick glance. “What - what is this?” Karim and Set were somehow directing their movements, holding their golden items in one hand and gesturing as he would to a dog. One of the demons lunged suddenly and Yugi flinched.

“Karim and Set are honing their skills.” Atem lowered his chin, staring through half-lidded eyes. There was another brutal attack, but Yugi managed not to react. Crimson eyes flickered over to him. “It is not dangerous,” he added. “This is merely preparation.”

_Preparation_ , thought Yugi. A demon shrieked. It disappeared into a carved stone tablet. Set’s rod glowed and another demon materialised. “What are they?”

“Darkness,” replied Atem. “Restless spirits.” He gestured at the tablets. “They are confined within those. For the time being.”

Yugi watched them fight. This, then, was the power of Kemet. This would be the army that their enemies faced and the fate of anyone who defied the king. The dark power in Karim and Set’s Items were tangible, hanging heavy in the air like a perfume Yugi could taste. Whatever magic they were using, it seemed to be focussed here, to the point that Yugi felt it on his skin.

He wondered about the inverted gold pyramid that hung, silent, from the king’s neck. Even with the others down on the main floor, Yugi could feel it; stronger than all of them combined. He shivered.

_x_

The following day carried a chill. It was well into the growing season and the weather was only growing cooler. Yugi sat on the floor of his quarters, legs warmed by a fur. The light, too was growing dimmer in the evenings.

On the other side of the room sat Ryou, his pale hair loose. He was weaving a basket. In the past few days, the slave been making things, entertaining himself. Yugi reminded himself what Ryou’s life used to be like, ruled by violent masters and a life of back-breaking work, but it did little to ease the guilt he felt.

“Everyone is talking about this prince,” said Ryou.

“The _A’amu_ lord?”

“Mm. Should be here any day now.” Yugi weaved together his pieces of flax, far less able than Ryou but determined to help. The knowledge that the prince was coming only made him anxious. “And one of the kitchen boys said that another tomb had been robbed - from _Ta-Sekht-Ma’at_.”

“A tomb robbery? Another one?” No one wandered through the graves of the old kings; that land was sacred. It was a brave thief who dared to steal from them.

Ryou nodded. There was a downcast turn to his mouth that made Yugi frown. “Another one. They took everything.”

Yugi shook his head. He couldn’t imagine what it would feel like if it had been his father’s tomb, plundered and stripped bare. He drew another piece of flax together. “What about the kitchen boys?” asked Yugi after a few minutes. “Are they kind?” It would at least ease his guilt if he knew that he hadn’t abandoned Ryou to complete solitude.

“Yes.” The slave threw him a smile - gentle and genuine, as always. “Although…”

“What?”

“It’s nothing.”

“What is it?” he asked, curiously..

The slave gave a wry smile. “One of the harem girls is… not as easy to like. She has quite a temper.”

“I don’t doubt it.” He’d seen the girls of Atem’s harem. They were each beautiful, in face and body, but their temperaments did not match.

“Apparently she was the king’s favourite,” added Ryou, his voice growing lighter as he spoke, relaxing again. Yugi’s fingers tightened. He wasn’t sure that he wanted to hear this. “But recently he’s stopped calling for her. Rumour has it that he has his eye on one of the nobles’ daughters.”

A courtier to warm his bed, picked up and discarded on a whim. “I think I feel sorry for her,” he managed, although it wasn’t pity twisting his stomach.

“From what I’ve heard,” said Ryou quietly, not looking at him. “The king’s partners feel anything but regret.”

Yugi’s cheeks were on fire. “Oh,” he said, somehow unable to think of anything else to say. All Yugi could see was smooth, tanned skin and dark crimson eyes. He ducked his head, but he could not purge the image from his mind.


	24. Chapter 24

Interlude

_The Thief and the Slave_

_x_

Ryou sat outside, his back against the wall of the servants’ quarters. Night was falling. He should go back in, back to his little corner on the floor and try to sleep.

Sighing, Ryou curled up into a ball. _It can’t be him_ , he thought, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. _And yet_ … He had only seen the man for a second by the river - a tiny glimpse - but there was no mistaking that pale tangle of hair. Or that grin.

_Thief king._

_x_

_{Three years earlier}_

Ryou gingerly pressed his fingers to the bruise. It would turn purple before dawn, a lovely companion to the yellow-green patterns on his back. He smoothed on a thin layer of healing salve, rubbing it gently into the skin, flinching as his ribs protested. _I shouldn’t have said anything,_ he thought. _It was stupid. I know better._ Still, the other slaves were uninjured and a broken bowl was a simple matter to fix. He replaced the healing salve, tucking it away out of sight, exactly as he’d found it.

The kitchen was deserted, silent as a tomb. Ryou left it quickly. Outside, the peace of the night was broken only by the sound of the cattle moving. Ryou crossed the courtyard on silent feet. Then a flock of birds surged into the air on the other side of the courtyard. They circling the trees, squawking. Ryou paused. _Maybe something scared them._ A predator wouldn’t come this close to the house, surely? His breath grew shallow as Ryou strained to hear something other than the birds. It was quiet. _Probably just a cat._ He turned around.

Something grabbed him, clamped down over his mouth. A thief! Ryou grabbed the stranger’s wrist. _Bastet save me._ “Quiet,” the man hissed in his ear. “One scream, one _sound_ , and I’ll slit your throat.” Ryou shivered and went still. “Better.” The hand slid from his mouth and circled his throat. He would be strangled before he could draw enough breath to scream. The man pressed up against his spine and snaked an arm around his waist.

“Who are you?” whispered Ryou. His heart was throbbing in his ears. 

A chuckle. “No one.” Hot air brushed his temple as the man shifted. Dark shapes flit past the lee of the cattle pen; more thieves. “Where’s your master, slave?”

He wet his lips. “Asleep.” Ryou held no loyalty to this master, but the others…. “Please,” he said. “Don’t hurt the other slaves. My master has gold-”

“Where?” The man’s grip tightened and Ryou gasped for breath.

“A room on the west of the house. That - that side,” he said, making a slight gesture with his hand.

“That so?” He moved, fingers digging into his side. Ryou whimpered and the thief eased away. His fingers brushed over the tender skin and he breathed a laugh into his ear. “No loyalty to this one, then?” Without waiting for an answer, the man urged him to the side of the house. He turned Ryou until his back was pressed against the mud brick wall. That hand never left his throat. “Pepi!” He jerked his head and two slender figures detached from the shadows and loped around the corner of the house. “We’ll see if you’re telling the truth.”

He turned to watch them and a shaft of moonlight flickered over his face. Ryou’s eyes widened. It was a boy just a few years older than him. Thin gold chains draped over his shoulders and tangled in the long, pale locks of his hair. The ends were tied together and draped down the centre of his chest, lying against the taut muscles of his abdomen. In the dim light, his eyes were obsidian pools. _Who are you?_ wondered Ryou.

A head peered round the corner of the house and nodded. Tension bled from the boy’s shoulders. “Well, seems you weren’t lying.” He eyed Ryou. “Stay quiet, like the good little lamb you are, and I won’t hurt you. Got it?” Miserably, Ryou nodded. It wouldn’t matter anyway. Once his master had realised his property had been stolen, he would take out his anger on Ryou’s hide. “Good boy.”

One of the cows lowed. The thief tensed. He crushed Ryou into the wall, pressing his chest against the slave’s, hand caught between them around Ryou’s throat. Silk skin slid against his own, warm against the strands of cool gold thread. Ryou’s body, trained by youth and bad luck, began to respond, flushing from his groin to the tips of his fingers. Mortified, Ryou shut his eyes.

“Mmm.” To his shock, the thief only pressed closer. He mouthed at Ryou’s shoulder. “I don’t have time for that right now, little lamb,” he whispered. Ryou drew in a shuddering breath, mouth flooding with the boy’s scent; fresh and somehow wild. His skin tingled and his loins tightened. _Holy Bastet, this was humiliating._ “Well,” murmured the other man. “Maybe just a taste.” He turned his head and pressed his mouth to Ryou’s. The slave froze. _What?_ Every master he’d had since he was a child had taken their pleasure from his body, but none had ever kissed him. And this…

Dry lips crushed his own. This man plundered his mouth, taking deep, feral bites from his lips. With a little sound, Ryou submitted. He opened his mouth to the slick, wet heat of the stranger’s tongue. It tangled with his own and sent a shudder through him. Goddess, if he knew kissing could be like _this_ … The man’s hand tightened around his throat and Ryou moaned.

“Thief King!” The man pulled away. Ryou was panting and his mouth felt wet. Two shadows stood in the courtyard. They carried small bags over their shoulders. Ryou could imagine the wealth that was hidden away inside them. “Let’s go!” _Thief King?_ wondered Ryou.

The boy drew away, leaving half a cubit of heated air between their bodies. “Well done, little lamb.” A wicked grin shone in the moonlight. “Time to sleep.”

Ryou blinked. “What?” Then a white flash of pain hit him, followed by darkness.


	25. Chapter 25

__

The King and the Scribe

x

At dawn there was a trial. Yugi sat through it, breathing a sigh of relief when the man was spared. His judgement was whipping and then exile. Far more merciful than death. Once the courtiers were dismissed, Atem and his Guardians sank into a discussion about the _A’amu_ prince. He was due to arrive that evening. Yugi watched the way that Atem mediated the discussion, gesturing gracefully with long fingers when the low tones of his voice weren’t enough. Yugi wondered which noble’s daughter had caught his eye. And if the king had already taken her, on the lion-pawed bed not three cubits from where he and Yugi played _senet._

 _Don’t_ , he told himself. _He is your king. You have no right to think of him thus._ Yugi pushed the thoughts away. By the end of the meeting, he was exhausted thinking about nothing.

When they broke at midday, Yugi escaped and stood in the lotus hall by the front entrance. He breathed in the cooler air, closing his eyes.

“Scribe.”

He jumped and opened his eyes. “Governor.” Yugi scoured his mind for the name. “Mesech.”

The man tilted his head, dark eyes steady on his face. It was unnerving. “You are the king’s scribe.”

He stood up a little straighter. “I am.”

“Where is he?”

“Still in session with his Guardians, my lord,” Yugi answered. “Can I deliver a message?”

Mesech frowned. “No.”

“… He will be busy until the feast, I expect,” said Yugi slowly. “Perhaps you could speak to him this evening?”

“I have no desire to remain for these ridiculous festivities.” Mesech wrinkled his nose, glaring towards the open court, from which came the scent of fresh lotus blossoms and an amount of noise disproportionate to the time of day. “The Aten sets; I must visit the temple.”

“You’re a priest?” His eyes widened. “Forgive me, I didn’t mean-”

“Perceptive,” interrupted Mesech dryly. “I trained as a priest before I was elevated to this position. No matter,” he continued. “I will visit the king in the morning, when this childish posturing is over.” He swept past Yugi and out into the sunlight.

The scribe let out a deep breath and made a mental note to avoid the governor the next day.

“Yugi.” Ryou stood beside him, dressed in a fine white kilt. “I thought you would still be with the king. Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” said Yugi. There was a commotion out in the court and a number of servants rushed past them into the House. “What’s going on?” he asked.

“It’s the prince, the _A’amu_ leader. He’ll be here before nightfall.”

Yugi’s breath hissed between his teeth. “I wasn’t expecting him to be here so soon.”

“I know.” Ryou tucked a strand of hair behind his ear. “It seems only a few days ago that he entered Kemet. He must’ve travelled quickly.”

The other servants had begun to bring out decorations: bunches of lotus blossoms and swathes of raw silk. Each of the servants wore fine kilts and a pretty collar. They were standing beside the main path into the palace. “Perhaps we should move,” suggested Yugi as the decorating frenzy grew closer to their position.

“There you are!” Grinning, Mana twirled in a circle. Her long coloured sash whipped out, almost hitting Ryou in the face. “What do you think?”

Chuckling - more at Ryou’s face than at Mana - Yugi nodded. “You look lovely.” Her eyes looked larger, outlined with shadow as well as kohl. When she stilled he saw Jou, clean and tidy and decked out in full martial regalia. “So do you, Jou.”

The General grimaced. “I’ve been reduced to a decoration.”

Yugi laughed. “What, no battles today?”

He started to say something but Mana gripped Ryou by the arm and batted her eyes at Yugi. “Can I borrow him for a while? We need some help with all this,” and she threw her arm out at the small army of servants.

“Um.” He shot a helpless look at Ryou. “Yes, I suppose so.”

“Perfect. Thank you.” She bobbed her head and dragged Ryou away.

“I think we should get out of here before we get enlisted,” muttered Jou.

“Good idea.” Yugi followed him back inside, heading toward the King’s House, that set of rooms just beyond the central halls which was for the use of the king and his family. The noise in the palace was building steadily. Waset was throwing up banners ready for the prince’s arrival. “It’s still early,” he said to Jou as they walked. “Why are they getting ready now?”

“The prince is almost here. Better to be ready early than not in time,” he replied. As well as his _shenti_ , Jou wore a number of gold charms and a collar dotted with amber stones. It brought out the golden tones of his hair and skin. Jou huffed. “Damn jackals. I’d rather be out there fighting than sitting on my ass on best behaviour.”

“What will you be doing?” asked Yugi. Although the prince had been the topic of conversation for days, now, he still didn’t know how tonight would play out.

“I’ll be bringing him up through the city with the guards.” Jou ran a hand through his hair. “I still don’t trust this man. They’ll be too close to Atem.”

A pang of fear shot through Yugi. “Do you think there’ll be an attack?”

He shrugged. “Who knows? All we can do is wait and pray. But we have some of the best in here tonight,” he added, nodding to the darkness. At the side of the hall was a Medjay warrior. His dark skin blended with the shadows and he wore a leopard skin around his hips and gold chains over his shoulders. “They’re as dangerous as Kemet’s trained soldiers,” said Jou. “If not more.”

Yugi wet his lips. “And you’ll be there.”

“Right behind you,” he promised. “The noble brats will be here soon, as well. They’ll wear all their wealth on their bodies, so this prince can see who’s at the top and who’s not worth speaking to.” A string of music chased his words and Jou stopped. “That’s the musicians. I’d better go,” he said, turning back. He squeezed Yugi’s shoulder. “You should go and get ready as well. Then go to Atem. Try not to leave him alone tonight,” he said.

Swallowing, Yugi nodded. “All right. Be careful.”

“And you.” With that, Jou stalked off back down the corridor and out of sight. Yugi kept going, his pace quickening as the noise grew. The closer it came to night the tenser he was getting. _It’s just a festival_ , he told himself, trying to ignore the political implications for Kemet if these festivities went badly. Less than a year ago, he would have been blissfully ignorant of all this danger. Now he was painfully aware of just how wrong this could all go.

In his quarters, Yugi donned his cleanest _shenti_ , sliding on the arm band from Atem and Ryou’s bangle. Then he quickly touched up the kohl around his eyes. It only took a few minutes and he was glad, suddenly, that he didn’t have so many possessions.

He walked straight to Atem’s quarters. Outside the room stood two of his bodyguards. They nodded at Yugi as he passed. The king was sitting on the far side of the room, dressed in his _shendyt_ but his chest bare. His skin glistened with oil; its perfume was suffused throughout the chambers. A man stood by him, applying a few final touches with his brush. The king’s lids were lined with black kohl and red ochre tinged his lips and highlighted the sharp curves of his cheekbones. “ _Per-a’ah_ ,” said Yugi, inclining his head. Atem’s eyes opened. The crimson looked ten shades brighter against the heavy kohl. Yugi swallowed.

“Enough.” The cosmetician left, taking his tray of ochres with him. “Yugi.” The king still wore the God Pyramid. “Have you come from the audience chamber?”

He nodded. “Everything was being prepared as I left. Jou went to meet the prince at the river.”

“Good.” Atem stood, stretching his arms up over his head. “Bring me my crown and the gold ornaments, over there.” Yugi did as he said, concentrating on his task and trying to keep his gaze from skimming Atem’s - his king’s gleaming golden skin. He placed the pectoral lightly over Atem’s shoulders, followed by a collar of gold and red stones. “The sky is darkening already,” said the king. “Soon the feast will be laid and the prince will be here with his retinue.” Yugi frowned, sliding a gold band up onto the man’s arm. It sounded like a warning. He had been in the palace for almost two seasons, now, and he had never known the king to fear something. “You seem nervous.” He paused, gaze flickering up to meet Atem’s eyes.

“I… I’m sorry, my lord.” He stood a little straighter and placed the dual _Sekhemti_ crown on Atem’s head. The man glanced down at him.

“What is it?”

“I…” Yugi stood back. “When I spoke to Jou, he said that… He thought there might be an attack. He was… worried.” _About you._

Atem lay his hand on Yugi's shoulder, fingers spanning the nape of his neck. Startled, Yugi looked up. “Fear not, Small Person,” he murmured. “There is no need to be anxious.” Atem dropped his hand and touched the corner of his pyramid. Yugi’s skin tingled where the heat of Atem’s hand had lain. “We must befriend these _A’amu_ , for as long as they’re in Kemet. They would make formidable enemies and they respect cruelty over kindness. I - The king cannot show weakness of any kind.”

That was definitely a warning. Yugi squared his shoulders. “I understand.”

The king looked at him. “Yes. I know,” he said softly. Then Atem raised his head a little and fell into a posture that Yugi recognised from so many public audiences. With a nod, he turned and stalked out of the room. Steeling himself, Yugi followed. He walked closely on Atem’s heels, reassured by the way the man carved a path ahead of them. It wasn’t long before they arrived behind the Audience Chamber. Siamon was there, pacing in the narrow, dark space by the door.

“ _Nsw bity_ ,” he said as Atem appeared. “The nobles have gathered inside.” He dropped his voice, then, and drew the king into a quiet conversation. Yugi eyed the doors. He wondered if the prince was already behind them. “Better that you give him the illusion of control,” said Siamon then.

“As you say.” The king turned and servants jumped forward to open the doors. Yugi went after him into the brightly lit hall.

Courtiers lined both sides of the room, laying on cushions and served by garlanded servants. Yugi scanned the crowd quickly. He recognised the scribe, Gechs, but Mesech had made good on his word and was nowhere in sight. The Sacred Guardians surrounded the dais and both Set and Siamon stood, flanking the throne. A wave of awed silence swept over the crowd as Atem sat. Then, slowly, the nobles grew bolder and the room buzzed with conversation. It was as if a burden had lifted now that the king was there.

Yugi stood behind the king’s throne to his right. There was another chair set up beside him, a little smaller and less ornate than the king’s. Yugi eyed it warily. Two servants made as if to approach the king with food and drink, but Atem lifted a finger, declining both. Instead he narrowed his eyes, watching the nobles expressionlessly. He had become the king; cold and ruthless and prepared to do whatever it took to ensure Kemet’s survival. Yugi took a deep breath and resolved to be just as strong.

Yugi searched the room again, looking for a friendly face. Mahaad stood near him, with Karim. They were talking quietly, but, as Yugi’s gaze fell on them, they stopped, turning toward the wide, open entrance at the other end of the room. Stars twinkled in the darkening sky. The noise rose into an excited babble and Yugi saw movement outside: the prince was here.

Then a group of people entered and the noise died away. Yugi tensed. At the front strode a tall, dark-haired man. His eyes were lined with kohl and his beard was neatly trimmed. He wore a patterned wrap, like a _shenti_ , which stretched over his shoulders as well. Around that wound another cloth in a different pattern. Heavy gold hung from his ears, wrists and ankles. He looked up to the dais and smiled. Yugi shivered. The prince.

Behind the man was a stream of _A’amu_ guards and nobles. They each looked wary and tense. Jou stood at the back with his own soldiers. He was watching the prince closely. Gradually the courtiers began to speak again and the guests dispersed through the room. Slaves came out to escort them, peeling the guards away, one by one, to sit on lush cushions at the side of the chamber. Set met the prince half way across the room, relaxing slightly to offer the man a bow. He walked beside him up to the king’s throne.

“Good evening, _nsw bity_ Akhenre.” With a start Yugi recognised Atem’s throne name. It had been so long since he’d referred to him by anything other than Atem in his thoughts that he had almost forgotten. The prince did not list any of his other names.

Atem merely inclined his head. “Prince Yaqarum. I see that you have managed to find your way to my city.”

“Indeed.” The prince smirked. “The journey was long and tedious, but I would not be deterred .”

Atem gestured at the empty seat beside him, on Yugi’s other side. “Please. Be seated.”

“Thank you for your hospitality.” Yaqarum stepped up onto the dais and sat back into the chair with a pleased murmur. Instantly slaves leapt to his side, proffering sizzling quail and deep, dark wine. Atem turned as well, finally accepting his own food. Yugi saw Jou move to stand at the side of the dais, on the right - closer to the prince than Atem.

After a few minutes a long procession began, bringing tributes of food and metals before the king. Atem accepted everything gracefully, sipping coolly from his wine. Music lilted through the air in the background, but the dais was silent while the tributes were brought in.

It seemed like an age before the hall was finally cleared of the procession. Conversations began again, cloaking the room in a comforting murmur. Dancers took to the floor amid the nobles, twisting sinuously and whirling in complicated moves. They coaxed attention from the guards, flirting with them, and Yugi wondered exactly how many of the Great House’s servants had been instructed to watch the _A’amu._

Atem lifted his fingers. Yugi took a cup of the dark, intoxicating wine from the nearest servant. He stepped up between the king and the foreign prince and handed it to Atem. Yaqarum glanced at him once, then again quickly, his eyes widening. “How curious.” Yugi waited for Atem’s cup. He felt the stranger’s gaze on him like a physical weight, eerie and unwelcome. Then, shockingly, a finger was under his chin, turning his head for inspection. Yugi swallowed and kept his gaze on the ground. “Where did you find this?”

“In the streets of the Southern City.” With his face turned away, Yugi couldn’t see Atem. He wished he could. Just a glimpse would be enough to calm him.

Then Yaqarum clasped a hand around Yugi’s throat. The air around the dais grew very still.

Yugi took a quick, shallow breath. “He’s the living image of Your Majesty.” The prince assessed him coolly. Yugi’s pulse thrummed, frantic, under the man’s fingers. “But so much paler… more delicate, too.” Yugi’s gaze flicked up a little and he saw the prince’s lips curl into a smirk. “I imagine he sounds rather different, as well,” he added.

Atem spoke and his voice was granite. “This is my personal Sandal Bearer. He serves me exclusively.” On the other side of the prince, Jou shifted, glowering at something straight ahead of him.

The prince’s smile only widened. “Indeed,” he murmured and let go. Shaken, Yugi stole back the empty cup and stood behind the throne, a little closer to Atem. His hands were trembling. Yugi tucked them away, out of sight. “That is a fascinating pendant.”

Yugi saw Atem shift. “Thank you.” He said nothing about the Pyramid, although Yaqarum had paused, waiting. “My servants have prepared quarters for you in the Great House.”

“I hope they are not as susceptible to dust as the rest of this city seems to be,” said Yaqarum, mouth curling. Atem did not answer. The soldiers near the dais grew taught and Yugi realised that they were not as oblivious to this conversation as he’d thought. All of them were on edge, prepared to leap to their king’s defence. Yugi swallowed. He dug his toes into the ground and resolved to do the same. 

__

x


	26. Chapter 26

__

x

The following day, Atem rose at dawn. Yugi stood by his seat in the Audience Chamber, waiting in silence. The two chairs had been replaced by more comfortable, cushioned stools. Mahaad waited with them, talking quietly to Akhenaden, on of the Sacred Guardians Yugi had spent little time with.

Eventually the prince appeared, hours after dawn and still yawning. The heat was much stronger than it had been at dawn, but the foreign prince seemed unaffected. He took a seat on the dais beside Atem. As the prince settled down, Yugi saw the tendons in Atem’s shoulders flex and go taught. Even the king was putting on a façade for this man, all for peace.

“Good morning.” Yaqarum shuffled deeper into his cushioned seat, frowning, and the servants lavished food on him. Jou stepped from the shadows at the back of the hall and clasped his hands behind his back.

“Once you have eaten,” said Atem. “I have arranged for a tour of Waset.” The king ate nothing; Yugi had served his meal at dawn, hours ago.

Yaqarum’s expression grew sour. “I have already seen a number of these small cities on my journey here,” he said, dusting crumbs off his fingers. They drifted onto the stone floor. “Surely you have something more… stimulating, to offer?” There was a dark, bloodthirsty tone to the prince’s voice. Yugi very carefully did not move.

A frown darkened the king’s brow. “Perhaps. There is excellent hunting here.” 

“I can imagine,” said Yaqarum, grinning. “I’ve never seen a lion in its natural habitat before. I’d very much like to bring one down myself.” Yugi winced. He cast a quick look at the king, but Atem was too good at disguising his expression. The lion was a symbol of Kemet’s king. Either Yaqarum was an idiot, or he was making a thinly veiled threat - and Yugi didn’t doubt the man’s intelligence.

The prince ate the remainder of his meal in relative silence. Once he had finished, Atem led a group of soldiers, including Jou, out of the palace. Yugi followed them as far as the courtyard. Then he watched them mount chariots, horses decked out in all their finery, and ride off into the city.

“It is a show of strength.” Set stood beside him, arms crossed over his chest. He, too, was watching them go. “Another method to warn him away.”

“Away from what?”

“From Kemet. From the sacred Item that the king wears.” Blue eyes flickered down at him and then away. “Among other things.” Yugi bit the inside of his mouth. Despite knowing that Jou and a legion of his best warriors had gone with him, he still couldn’t suppress the anxiety that tightened his stomach. “The king will summon you when he returns,” said Set, a dismissal if ever Yugi had heard one.

Inclining his head, Yugi left, walking away quickly and trying to drag his mind from the same place. Ryou was lingering in another part of the palace, sweeping up remnants of the night’s celebration. He greeted Yugi with a smile and a few light, inconsequential anecdotes. The scribe helped him clean.

“Nefret’s gone missing,” Ryou said, in passing. “I’m a little worried about her.”

Yugi frowned. “There aren’t dogs in the House, are there?”

He shook his head. “No, not in this part. And she’s too smart for that, anyway.”

“I’m sure she’s fine,” said Yugi. The thought had distracted him, though, and he let Ryou draw him into conversation. 

It was a few hours later, as the afternoon breeze was cooling, when he was summoned. Yugi and Ryou hurried to the courtyard. The prince was just entering, standing in the shadow of the lotus pillars. Atem followed him, stepping up so he stood, almost shoulder to shoulder, beside the prince. Two servants knelt by Yaqarum’s feet. One untied his sandals while the other rinsed his feet with a bowl of cool water. Clean sandals waited in the hands of a third.

“Yugi!” someone hissed. He started. The king was glaring at him, his feet bare as he waited for Yugi to come to his senses. Yugi dropped to his knees. _Stupid, stupid, stupid._ He fastened sandals over Atem’s feet with trembling hands.

“Your attendant seems out of sorts,” said the prince, voice threaded with scorn.

“I will deal with him later.” One slender foot caught Yugi under the chin and shoved him away. He slammed into the stone floor with a muffled grunt. Atem didn’t cast him another glance. He and the prince walked into the shadows of the palace.

Ryou helped him up. “Are you all right?” murmured the slave. “I can’t believe…” He pressed his lips together.

“Shh,” hissed Yugi. He brushed himself off. “It didn’t hurt.” Only his pride. But there was nothing else Atem _could_ have done, and Ryou knew it too. Yugi had made a mistake. _Cruelty over kindness…._ If Yaqarum thought, for one instant, that Atem had a weakness - even if that weakness was one single, lowly scribe - Kemet would pay for it. Yugi rolled his shoulder. The Atem he’d gotten used to, the one who played _senet_ with him and teased him mercilessly, wasn’t this Atem. And he wouldn’t be, not while the foreign prince was in Waset.

Kemet would always come first.

__

x

As the Aten disappeared from the sky, night fell over the city like a blanket. Music drifted peacefully on the breeze and ruffled the trees in the palace garden. The girls were out again, dancing their magic on the sultry night air. Yugi stood between Atem and the prince, breathing in the scent of the lotus flowers and trying to pretend that he wasn‘t listening to every word they said.

“Are all your servants this skilled?” said Yaqarum, head on his hand as he watched the dancers.

“They are chosen for their talent,” replied Atem. His sentences were growing shorter as the night wore on and he drank more and more deeply from the dark, heady wine that Yugi brought him.

“And I expect they are all taken from Waset. I did not see much talent along the river.” Atem’s eyes glittered dangerously. Yaqarum shifted, gesturing for more wine. Merwt-i was there, to Yugi’s right, and he filled the man’s cup. As soon as he had done so he shrank back into the shadows, curving his shoulders and visibly shrinking. “It’s certainly nothing like home.”

“Indeed?” said Atem, more polite than interested, Yugi thought.

Yaqarum hummed, taking a gulp of wine. “I hear that Kemet is a land of dark mystery,” he said after a moment. “And magic.” Yugi’s gaze darted to the golden pyramid which hung close to Atem’s chest. It was silent; clear of shadow.

“Tales often grow in the telling.”

“Perhaps.” Yaqarum scratched his chin. His nails made a grating sound against his neatly trimmed beard. “The tales _are_ fantastic: dark magic like shadows, infused with blood. Some say gold calls them forth. Rather incredible.” He tilted his head, eyes dark. “Don’t you agree?”

Atem rose, his _shendyt_ falling in folds around his bronze legs. “We will hunt early tomorrow. Before dawn.” He jerked his head in a nod. “It grows late. I will call for you then.” He turned to go. Yugi moved to go with him.

“Wait.” When he turned, Yugi found the prince staring, not at Atem, but at him. “Leave your Sandal Bearer to serve me for a little longer,” the man purred. “He has more talent than most.” Behind his seat, Merwt-i flinched.

Hesitating, Yugi looked at the king. “As you wish,” said Atem. The king dropped his voice, although he still didn’t look at Yugi. “Come to my chambers before you retire.” Yugi nodded. The king left, taking a small contingent of the servants with him.

The dancers hesitated, then the music rose again and they moved gracefully into another routine. Yugi stepped up to the side of Yaqarum’s chair. Nervous sweat prickled at the nape of his neck and his heart hammered against his ribs. Don’t be stupid, he thought to himself acidly. _You’re in the middle of the palace. He’s not going to leap up and attack you._ Yugi curled his hands into fists, anyway. Jou had taught him more than enough cheap tricks to defend himself. Yugi could break the man’s nose with one quick movement - oh, that was a tempting image. If Yaqarum did… attack him, Yugi had every right to defend himself.

But only if he did. Peace was not something to be thrown away lightly.

“Can I offer you something else to eat, my lord?” he asked.

“No.” Yaqarum leaned back in his ebony chair. “Tell me, how is it you look so much like the king? Too old for a son. A bastard brother, perhaps?”

“We’re not brothers,” he said, moderating his statement with a “my lord,” when he realised how short he sounded. “We have very different _baw_ , after all.”

“That is true.” He was examining Yugi like a prized mare and the scribe tamped down on his irritation. This man was a prince. He deserved respect. If nothing else. “And how did you come to be here?”

“I…” Yugi paused, bit his lip. He watched one particularly athletic girl twist, parallel to the ground. Yaqarum was an enemy. He couldn’t reveal too much. “I was referred to Waset by my instructor. When I arrived, I became Sandal Bearer to the High Priest. His Majesty then took me on as his personal Sandal Bearer.” Leaving out a lot in the middle.

“Did he? I am not surprised.” Yaqarum reached out, brushing a lock of Yugi’s golden hair away from his forehead. He slid his fingers over Yugi’s jaw and then down over his throat. Yugi shied away, cursing internally when the man’s eyes flashed. “Do you enjoy it, here?” he asked, retracting his hand.

He wet his lips. “I - I do, my lord. Very much.”

“Works you hard, does he?”

The man’s voice was heavy with innuendo and Yugi swallowed. He could feel a blush working its way over his cheeks but tried to project bewilderment. “My lord?”

“Well. He’ll be waiting for you.” Yaqarum’s eyes tracked down over Yugi’s bare chest. “You had best go and… satisfy him.”

Flushing, Yugi nodded and turned on his heel. The prince’s soft, sibilant voice echoed in his ears as he made his way quickly back through the corridors to the King’s House. Atem was waiting for him.

The king’s chambers were shadowed and quiet. Light from the oil lamps flickered over the walls in a warm breeze. Yugi stepped inside and ran a hand through his hair. His muscles were quivering; they’d been tense for too long. He brushed it off and moved through the king’s chambers.

Atem was standing by his bed in the innermost room, cradling the pyramid in his hands. When Yugi entered, he placed it carefully upon a stool by the wall. “My lord,” said Yugi, bowing. The king turned to face him. His crimson eyes gleamed in the dark. Yugi’s mouth went dry. This room could have been a world in and of itself, of which Atem was king, sun and god. “You - you wanted me?”

Atem made a gesture to his attire, which was unchanged, and Yugi moved at once to help him disrobe. “What did he ask you?”

Yugi swallowed. “He wanted to know more about me.” He unhooked the gold earrings from Atem’s earlobes and placed them gently beside the sacred item. Thinking about his encounter with Yaqarum made him nervous. _I didn’t say anything… treacherous. I don’t think,_ he thought.

“Such as?” Atem’s shoulders were still tense under Yugi’s hands as he removed the collar.

“Who I was.” Yugi decided not to mention the ‘brother’ comment. He was facing Atem, now, concentrating on the bands of gold around his arms. “He was just interested in - in why I looked like you,” he said, gesturing to his own face. The memory of Yaqarum’s keen eyes sent a shiver through him. “He asked me where I came from and how I became your Sandal Bearer, and then he-” Yugi shut his mouth so fast his teeth clicked.

The breeze dropped. Atem’s gaze snapped to his. “And then he - what?”

“I….” _Danger!_ shouted something at the back of his mind. He took a half-step back.

Atem caught his elbows with both hands. Yugi stopped moving. “What,” said Atem. “Exactly, did he do?”

“He…” He couldn’t _lie_ , not to his king, but… but he could omit. Atem didn’t need to know how Yaqarum had made him feel - how he’d made him afraid. “He just touched me.”

“Just,” repeated Atem. The king’s lips curled into a snarl. “If he assaulted you and my guards stood by and did nothing-”

“No!” said Yugi, horrified. “He didn’t assault me, he only - he touched my face.”

“Where?”

With fingers that didn’t feel entirely steady - Atem must think him so _weak_ \- Yugi traced the path that Yaqarum had burned into his skin. “Here.”

The king let go of his arms. He raised a hand and placed it on Yugi’s jaw, where his own fingers had just been. “Here?” Yugi murmured something that could have been assent. His lungs had evidently stopped working, but it was difficult to gather the impetuous to try and make them. Atem’s crimson eyes were framed by thick, dark lashes. Dry, calloused fingers slid down to this throat and rested there. Yugi’s pulse beat wildly against Atem’s thumb.

Atem held Yugi in the same way Yaqarum had - by the throat - but this time, Yugi’s body was singing. “M-Majesty,” he whispered. Was this some mistake? The king’s chest rose and fell rapidly. Yugi felt the pressure on his neck fluctuate and Atem gently dragged him closer. His chest grazed against the king’s and his heart leapt. Yugi felt a sudden affinity to the gazelle, caught in the hunter’s gaze and knowing, inexplicably, that his fate was sealed. 

“Per-a’ah….” Yugi’s breath caught. Atem’s other hand was sliding up his thigh. He raised his hands - unsure if he was trying to protest - and found himself grasping the man’s upper arms.

“You will not allow him to touch you again.”

 _How am I supposed to do that?_ “N-no.” Slender fingers trailed a path up the back of his thigh. They dipped under the material of his _shenti_. Atem released his throat, but Yugi still couldn’t draw a decent breath. He felt the cloth loosen from his waist. Atem’s knuckles brushed the heated, sensitive skin of his belly. “M-my lord,” he said breathlessly, half a question and half a plea. His heart was pounding, throbbing all the way through his body. Yugi closed his eyes, unable to meet that dark gaze. _Why is it so hard to breathe?_

“Swear to me,” whispered Atem and his finger slid back to a place that Yugi had only ever thought about with objective discomfort. His eyes flew open.

Atem pushed him back, pressing him down onto the bed. Yugi felt his body against him; silk skin and granite muscle. A pulse of heat went through him, pooling in his groin. Yugi’s _shenti_ fell apart between them. Cool air brushed over his tingling skin. Atem draped over him with arms like hot metal bands. His teeth dug sharp imprints into his shoulder. A cry choked in his throat.

One hand burned a path down his stomach. Atem was murmuring things in Yugi’s ear, low and filthy and barely recognisable. They set fire to his blood. Yugi caught a glimpse of the stone ceiling and the vivid murals painted onto the walls and closed his eyes. In the dark, the deep cadence of Atem’s voice curled underneath his skin.

Atem wrapped a hand around him. Moaning, Yugi arched up into the touch. “ _N-nsw_ ,” he whispered. He gripped the sheets, gasping as Atem mouthed at the hollow in his neck. His tongue slicked over Yugi’s skin; wet, liquid heat. Need flamed up from the pit of his belly. Atem twisted his hand and it felt like he had hold of Yugi’s very _soul_. “Please,” he sighed. “Oh, please.”

Atem’s hot, silken mouth closed around his nipple and Yugi’s mouth opened on a silent gasp. Then he was being moved, turned over onto his stomach. Golden light flickered over his vision. Yugi felt dizzy - drunk or heatsick. The silk of the sheets was cool torture. He struggled up onto his knees.

Something cool dripped over his skin. Yugi shivered. He was sweating - he could taste the salt on his lips - but this was smooth, and thick. Atem was a hot, silken presence along his spine, low, heavy breaths twining with his own. Yugi yearned for him, for something he couldn’t name. Fingers slid over the curve of his hips and gripped his thigh. Hot breath in his ear. “Spread your legs.” Shuddering, Yugi moved his thighs apart - in that moment he would willingly have died if given the order.

Atem’s fingers slid into him, slick and cold. Yugi gasped and turned his face into the silk cloth, biting his lip against the pain. Atem was burying his fingers _inside_ \- Yugi could feel them, clawing deeper and stretching him wide. Then -

“Oh gods,” he choked. Those fingers were ecstasy - they twitched and another shot of pleasure-spiked pain surged through his body. Groaning, he arched his hips up. “Amun - Atem,” he panted. Was there a difference? “Atem, _please_.”

Atem withdrew his fingers and Yugi mewled. His body ached, harder than it had ever been and so empty it hurt. He squirmed. Atem bit the flared edge of his shoulder blade and he subsided with a noise embarrassingly close to a whimper. Atem grasped his hip with one hand. Yugi felt the man’s body between his thighs and held his breath.

Then Atem was slipping inside him. His body stretched, protesting weakly as it gave way. Yugi’s skin burnt and he grit his teeth. Endless moments later Atem was pressed up tightly against him, hips snug between his legs and chest against the small of his back. All Yugi could hear was his own pants and the heavy breaths above him. Atem was inside him, spearing him from body to soul. Even the air he breathed was scented with the king.

Atem drew his hips back, and Yugi heard the slick sound of their bodies parting. Atem thrust into him. The movement jogged Yugi higher on the bed and sent more pain-pleasure shivering through him. Atem’s body curled around him and he thought suddenly of lions mating in the wild. Atem thrust into him, again and again, and Yugi gave himself up to it. He felt like he was flying, soaring, and it _hurt_ but it felt _so good_ and - _is this dying?_ he thought wildly. Yugi bit down on the cloth below him, muffling the noises he was making. Atem’s every stroke slammed pleasure into him. _Oh god, gods, holy Bastet…_ Atem’s breath warmed the sweat forming on his spine and Yugi shuddered. Swift, debilitating pleasure rushed up from his groin. His vision went dark, eclipsed by waves of ecstasy.

When his head cleared, a lifetime later, Yugi felt the balance of the pallet shift. Atem moved away to lay beside him. Something - a combination of somethings, Yugi wagered, and he could well imagine what they were - was seeping from the crack between his thighs. His skin cooled.

Air brushed past his ear and Yugi flinched. “I am pleased,” came the king’s smooth drawl. “Perhaps you should go back to your own room, now.” Yugi cringed. The absence of his name was like a slap to his face.

Yugi crept out of the bed. His _shenti_ was a puddle on the floor and Yugi slung it around his hips. He avoided looking anywhere in the king’s direction. Yugi slunk out of Atem’s rooms and made his way, silently, back to his own.


	27. Chapter 27

_x_

It must have been late by the time Yugi got back to his room, but he lay for a long time in the darkness, waiting for the dawn. He had washed as soon as he could, scrubbing his skin raw with water that chilled him to the bone. Every time he closed his eyes he felt Atem’s breath on his shoulder and his hands on his skin.

 _I’m no slave girl,_ he thought. _To just fall into his bed._ He winced when he recalled how easily he _had_ fallen.

_But he’s my_ king, said another part. _The Living Horus, lord of all Kemet._ His word was, quite literally, Yugi’s command. _How could I say no?_

But Atem had never commanded him to stay. Then - _Did I… did I_ want _to say no?_ Resolutely Yugi turned on his side, counting to the highest number he knew, over and over again, until sleep took him.

They say that morning brought new beginnings - that even the desert looked safe in the dawn - but when Yugi woke, his first thought was of Atem. He washed with tepid water and brushed the tangles out of his hair. There were marks - Amun, there were bruises on his hips. Yugi stared at them. His chest and shoulders were a little red in some places but largely untouched. Atem hadn’t bitten deep enough to mark him, then, except for this. Yugi fitted his fingers over the bruises on his pelvis. His king’s fingerprints, where only Yugi could see them. Had that been deliberate? Swallowing, Yugi wrapped his shenti around his waist, hiding them from view.

It was early. The sun disc had not yet appeared on the horizon, only the lightening sky gave away the hour. The king had given word to assemble his hunting chariots and servants were massing in the courtyard. Yugi made his way there in a daze and waited for Atem. Outside, Yugi could hear a steady murmur of conversation between the other servants. He ducked his head and kept his eyes on the floor. He didn’t want to think about the fact that they might already know. The king emerged, dressed simply and carrying a bow and arrows. Yaqarum followed. There were dark circles under his eyes.

The sight of the king sent a frisson through Yugi. _(Slick heat on his skin… hot breath in his ear…)_ Yugi shook the thoughts off, stepping up to meet them. Atem looked at him once, a quick, cursory glance, and then turned away. Something in Yugi sank.

_There,_ he thought, staring at the ground. _It meant nothing._ The thought stung. Yaqarum was watching him, though, brows arched. Quickly, Yugi looked away. For the other servants to know would be bad enough, but if the prince found out… He shivered. The humiliation would be unbearable.

_You’re not a child,_ he told himself, and squared his shoulders. He had followed his heart. He couldn’t regret that. And Atem had given him something that he should cherish, a night he would - could never forget. Probably one that would cause any lover he might take in the future to pale into insignificance, but…. Yugi sighed. But. Atem was king, and he was a speck on the ground in comparison. He couldn’t forget that, no matter if it hurt.

Atem swept past him, straight to the chariots lined up along the edge of the courtyard. Atem had his own chariot, as did Yaqarum. Yugi hopped up on the back of a third; plain wood and dark horses. The king snapped an order and they moved out. Waset awoke around them as they travelled east through the city. As they left the town, the desert stretched out in front, bleak and shadowed. Yugi gripped the chariot, grateful for its solid strength. To wander in the Red Land without food or water was a slow and painful death.

The sun was rising by the time they turned south, parallel to the river. It was rare to see lions this close to the city and Yugi wondered if the palace servants had ridden out earlier and set one free, just for this. The king and the prince rode at the front of their little procession. Yugi’s chariot stayed behind. A fourth drove up beside him, driven by Jou, his golden hair tousled by the wind. There was another guard with him - one of Yaqarum’s, by the patterns on his clothes. Jou kept his eyes fixed on the A’amu prince, brows drawn together.

The chariot bumped over the rough ground and Yugi jarred the ache in his lower back. Even a boat would be better than this. The king’s chariot swerved to a halt. Wheels clattered as each of the other chariots halted a short distance behind him. The charioteer driving Yugi wrapped the reins around his hands and waited. A horse whickered. Yugi leant against the wooden rim of the chariot and peered at the expanse of wilderness that stretched out to the horizon.

_There._ Movement among the strands of papyrus and the rocks. It was an antelope and its calf. Against the sun and the desert rock, their coats were almost indistinguishable. Yaqarum raised his bow, aiming it toward the two animals. Yugi glanced at Atem, but the king was staring at the horizon, eyes narrowed. After a moment, he, too, raised his bow, but pointed it in the opposite direction. Two arrows shot through the air. Yugi held his breath. One hit the older antelope and she startled, running a few paces before she sunk to the ground with a pained groan. The other….

A roar echoed over the plain. Something thrashed among the rocks and the noise descended in a series of harsh, growling sobs. It was a young lion. It lay so close to the ground that Yugi had missed it. The snarl faded and a murmur went up from the men around Yugi.

Atem leapt out of his chariot. He walked the distance to the lion’s body, bow still in hand. Yugi watched him reach it, slinging his bow over his shoulder. Atem leaned over the body of the lion and Yugi’s vision swam. The tawny coat of the lion became the king’s tanned skin. An arrow had pierced his chest and his features were slack; blank. Dead.

_Atem…!_

Then Atem gripped his arrow and yanked it out of the lion’s - _lion’s_ \- hide. Yugi’s heart was pounding and he had one hand pressed against his chest, as if to hold it still. _What…?_ Servants were hopping down, approaching the fallen antelope. Yugi exhaled shakily. That couldn’t have been caused by the heat, or a trick of his eyes. He had _seen_ Atem lying there. He would swear it on his own soul.

_I should speak to Mahaad._ Yugi worried at his lip. _Something’s… something’s not right._

_x_

When they returned, Mahaad was sequestered in his quarters with the other Guardians. “Sorry, Yugi,” said Mana, smiling kindly at him. “They’ll be there for at least another few hours.”

Yugi shook his head. “It’s fine. Thank you, Mana.” He turned away, walking aimlessly through the Great House. His thoughts were racing. He’d been seeing things for a while. A long time. That pyramid around the king’s neck… There were shadows inside it. _What does it mean?_

Underneath those thoughts was a continual press of memory ( _heatsilksweat_ ) that was all Atem. Sighing, he pushed it away. Ryou. He should go and talk to Ryou. The slave always made him feel better.

He found Ryou outside, at the back of the King’s House. The slave was staring at the horizon, his expression more troubled than Yugi had yet seen. Frowning, the scribe sat down beside him. “Ryou. Are you all right?”

Startled, the slave glanced at him, brown eyes wide. Then a wall went up and he smiled. “Of course. How can I help?”

“Ryou.” Yugi shook his head. Just as he thought they were becoming friends, Ryou would take a step back, distance himself. _But I swore I wouldn’t push him._ “Is there anything I can do?” he asked instead. “Are you… happy, here?”

The boy hesitated. “I… yes, I am. Happier than I’ve been in a long time.” He smiled, then, and it looked genuine. He stared at Yugi for a moment longer. “And you, Yugi?”

Yugi sat beside him, digging his toes into the sandy ground. He had been. Was he still? “I am,” he confirmed. “Mostly.”

Ryou turned fully to face him. In this corner, they were shielded from the worst of the sun. Even so, the light reflected off Ryou’s pale skin and white hair. His gaze was shrewd. “Has something happened?” Yugi bit the inside of his mouth and shrugged. “The king,” murmured Ryou, comprehension in his voice.

“Last night,“ he said. “I… don’t really know how.” One moment he was still a servant and the next, he was in Atem’s arms, all dignity abandoned.

Ryou touched his shoulder. “How are you feeling?”

“Sore,” admitted Yugi with a wry quirk to his mouth.

Ryou smiled, but his eyes were still concerned. “You don’t regret…?”

He shook his head. “No. I don’t think so. It was….” It was _bliss._ He’d never been closer to another person before, and to be that close to Atem…. He couldn’t regret that. But Yugi recalled the cold way the king had dismissed him, the distance that had sprung up between them so suddenly. _That_ had hurt. Was this what Jou had tried to warn him about? “I worry that He regrets it,” he said, honestly. _And what he thinks of me now._

“Yugi,” said Ryou. “No one could regret being with you.”

“That’s-” He ducked his head. “Thank you.”

“Just steer clear of the harem,” the slave advised him, grinning. “Those girls will scratch your eyes out.”

_x_


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is one of my favourites :D

The prince was taller than Atem, thicker in the thighs and belly, but leaner along his chest and arms, where Atem had corded muscle. But, against the weight of the king’s presence, he was practically insignificant. Yugi padded along behind the pair as they walked. Atem was giving the man a tour of the Great House, escorting him sedately through the main halls and the harem and the quiet, scented gardens. They stayed far away from the King’s House and Yugi knew better than to think Atem would let him see the Shadow room. Yaqarum made all the appropriate noises, but his gaze kept flickering back to the king, and again to Yugi. The scribe stared dutifully at a blank spot over the man’s shoulder and tried to ignore him. Just behind Yugi stood Jou and more guards: Atem was never alone while the prince walked the palace.

“I will leave in a few days,” said Yaqarum. He stopped and crossed his arms, somehow managing to look both courteous and disrespectful. “My father requires my presence on the border.”

Atem didn’t look unduly distressed by the news. “As you wish.”

“It will be time to accept the gifts of our own kingdom.” Then his gaze fell on Yugi. There was a dark, hungry edge to it and Yugi scowled at him.

“I will have my personal guard escort you to Men-nefer,” said the king. He was watching the prince, a downward curl to his mouth.

“‘Enduring and beautiful’,” echoed Yaqarum. “I’m sure the white-walled city is indeed so, but that won’t be necessary. I can traverse the river with little difficulty.” The smile he gave hid more than one barb.

“The river isn’t so dangerous until the _akhet_. But then it can be lethal. My General will travel with you.” Yaqarum acquiesced to that, although he obviously wasn’t happy about it. They moved off again and the swirl of Atem’s _shendyt_ brushed against Yugi’s lower arm, a feather touch that burnt like fire. He had to close his eyes for a moment, dizzy with the scent of the man. Quickly he shook it off.

Jou paused beside him. “He can’t leave too soon,” muttered the soldier. His brown eyes were dark, troubled. “Everyone’s under strain. I’m all for avertin’ war, but there’s something about that man I do not like. He didn’t come all this way to give us tribute.” Yugi agreed. There was something else that the A’amu needed to see from this close. He wondered what it was.

x

Atem was cloistered in the central throne room for the entirety of the following day. No one called for Yugi and when he went to the hall he was refused entry. Jou and Set were both missing. He stood in the corridor, worrying at his lip. The soldier barring his way merely stood there, expressionless. Frowning, Yugi slunk off through the palace. It was almost evening already. They had been in there for hours. Discussing Yaqarum’s tribute, most likely, but Yugi was not foolish enough to think that the prince was prostrating himself before Atem’s feet. He wanted something.

Yugi released his lower lip, which was starting to sting. If it was something simple - something that Kemet could afford to give - wouldn’t Atem have given it by now? What could be taking this long? _It has to be something important,_ thought Yugi. What sort of things did people ask for? For once he wished he’d spoken to more of the courtiers; they might have more of an idea about what this whole thing would entail. Kemet had gold and turquoise, although the mines were almost dry these days. Land, perhaps? People? Kemet had an army behind it, a vicious one, and seven powerful magic items that surrounded the prince even now. Whatever Yaqarum wanted had to be exceptional for him to fight for it this strongly. Atem would have to work hard to keep it from him.

_Atem…_ Yugi stopped in a small, shadowed alcove and leant against a small window set into the stone. This part of the Great House looked out over Waset, sleepy under the rose-red sky. Yugi sighed. He didn’t know what to think. Atem had barely looked at him, after… The memory sent an ache through him. His muscles clenched. _Stop,_ thought Yugi to himself sternly. _This is your_ king.

He was a servant. He had to remember that. Atem had every right to - to _fuck_ him one night and then ignore him the next. His hands clenched. It hurt, though. He hadn‘t really expected it to hurt. He missed those senet games, missed the flare of warmth when Atem looked at him. “Stop it,” he whispered. Right now Atem needed to be strong more than anything else. Yugi would just have to follow his example.

“Where is he?” Yugi started, spinning around. The voice was advancing on him, low and hissing with fury. Another voice, too quiet for him to understand. “I don’t care! That boy _lied_ to me, I’m going to-” Yaqarum rounded the corner, flushed and furious. A guard stood at his elbow. Both men stopped when they saw Yugi.

Heart leaping into his throat, Yugi backed away. “M-my lord.” There were none of their own guards along this part of the corridor.

“You.” A smirk curled the prince’s lips. He stalked forward, forcing Yugi back into the alcove. The stone dug into his spine and Yugi pressed his hands back against the wall. “The damn pyramid I can understand, but a servant?” muttered Yaqarum. Wine was heavy on the man’s breath. “No matter. The pyramid I will come back for, but the servant I’ll take now.” Yugi tensed all over. _What?_ He jerked back but Yaqarum grabbed him, curving a hand under his jaw. “Incredible,” he muttered, turning Yugi’s head to the side. “You look so like him.”

“I don’t,” hissed Yugi, wriggling. The guard was merely watching, expressionless. _Son of a - what is he doing?_ Fear was starting to build, driving his mind to the edge of panic.

“There is more light in you, perhaps.” Yaqarum chuckled. “You’ll do perfectly,” he whispered. “I’ll enjoy making you scream.”

Yugi opened his mouth - perhaps even to scream - but Yaqarum’s hand tightened around his jaw and all that escaped him was a cut-off squeak. Anger surged in him and Yugi brought his knee up sharply and slammed it into Yaqarum’s thigh. He missed the man’s vulnerable groin, but Yaqarum muttered an oath and released him. “Don’t touch me, you bastard,” hissed Yugi, hands curled into fists. This time he really would break the man’s nose.

“Prince Yaqarum.” It was Set. His blue eyes were stone cold. “The King has refused your offer. You are no longer welcome in Kemet.” Jou stepped up beside him, backed by a small contingent of soldiers. “The General will escort you from the palace. Tonight.” Snarling, Yaqarum didn’t bother with an answer. He turned on his heel and swept away. Jou followed him without a word.

_What was that?_

“Yugi.” Concern flickered over the High Priest’s face. “Are you injured?”

Yugi pulled himself together and shook his head. “No. I’m fine.”

A nod. Set didn’t waste any words on petty comforts. “Yaqarum will be gone by morning. You should go back to your rooms.”

“Where is Atem?”

“In his quarters,” said Set. “The Qenbet has broken for today.” He nodded at Yugi and spun to follow Yaqarum’s path down the corridor.

With a deep breath, Yugi strode in the other direction. The feel of Yaqarum’s fingers was an echo on his jaw and Yugi moved it, wincing a little. _What did he mean? The pyramid he’ll come back for? And the servant… me? Why me?_ Buried in a confused tangle of thoughts, Yugi came upon the king’s quarters more quickly than he was ready for. There were still guards flanking the entrance, but they let him pass. Yugi entered the rooms quietly, unsure quite what he wanted to say to Atem, but knowing that he had to see him.

A breeze whispered through the central room, sweet and heady. Their _senet_ board lay in its customary place, topped with the black pawns that Yugi usually used. Atem’s golden pieces were scattered over the floor in disarray. Yugi stepped around them and peered through the swathe of crimson silk that shielded the balcony from view. Atem sat on a golden chair, legs splayed out across the stone. He was watching the star-spangled sky.

“ _Per-a’ah_ ,” said Yugi, his voice a murmur on the wind. The king tilted his head, strands of gold cascading across his brow. Yugi moved forward, walking to the side of Atem’s chair and sinking to his knees. “My lord,” he whispered, but Atem’s gaze was fixed on something far away, across the desert. Yugi placed his hands on the very edge of the gold chair, sitting back on his calves. Atem’s legs stretched out beside him. They sat in silence for a moment, disturbed only by the velvet brush of the wind. “Is there anything I can do?” asked Yugi finally.

“Nothing,” said Atem. He was frowning. “There are hard decisions to make, to safeguard Kemet’s future. The _A’amu_ want more than she can give.”

Yugi lowered his gaze. “I understand, my lord.” The prince had said he wanted the pyramid, too. The pyramid and him. “Was it a great thing?”

“Not so great.” Atem touched the corner of his Sennen Item. A black shadow curled out to caress his finger. “But Kemet cannot show any weakness. Even one so small.” His frown deepened.

Yugi rose to his knees. Something in him ached. Atem - his king - was troubled. “Majesty…” he said softly and bit his lip. What could he say? He was a Sandal Bearer. A servant. How could he help a king?

Crimson eyes dropped down to meet his own. “What is it, Small Person?”

The endearment was a balm on his ka. Yugi took his heart in his hands - and pushed it away. “Can I… may I offer you comfort?” he asked.

The king blinked slowly. Then Atem cupped his jaw, bronze fingers gentling the places that Yaqarum had bruised. Yugi turned into the touch. “I should not have kept you here,” Atem whispered. “I never intended….” He stopped and exhaled.

Yugi frowned. “I want to be with you, my king,” he replied, lips brushing Atem’s wrist.

Atem tilted Yugi’s head up, drawing him close. Heart throbbing, Yugi let his eyes fall closed. Lips touched his mouth, dry and a little chapped. They slid over his own, achingly slow, coaxing sweet kisses from him like drops of rain from the desert. Something rose up in his throat, hot and almost painful. He gripped Atem’s wrist to keep his balance, parting his lips and arching up to meet Atem’s tongue. It slid against his own, slick wet heat, and he whimpered.

At once Atem pulled away. Yugi opened his eyes, confused as much by his own response as by Atem’s kiss. The king’s eyes were closed, a deep furrow between his brows. After a moment they slid open. His fingers softened and he placed a tender kiss at the corner of Yugi’s eye. “Sleep well, Yugi,” murmured Atem. He sat back, resting his chin in his hand and staring back out into the night.

Yugi returned silently to his quarters. His mind was in chaos. This wasn’t the cold and ruthless king who presided over Kemet, but neither was it the god who had set his soul on fire. Yugi climbed into bed, bewildered and more than a little shaken.

When he finally fell asleep, his dreams were full of dark shadows and the gleam of gold. Hieroglyphs burned into his chest, searing agony across his skin. Through it all he heard a voice screaming, high and sharp and in pain.

It was only midway through the dream that he realised it was his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End of Part II.


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now we begin the third and final part.

  
Part III: _Shemu_ , The Harvest

_The King and the Scribe_

_x_  


For the next few days, the palace was quiet, calm. Yaqarum disappeared on the river, Jou with him. No summons came from Atem, for anything. Yugi sent another letter home to his mother and Hor, leaving everything out, and spent the rest of his time copying out papyrus. It was mundane; boring.

Finally Yugi left his rooms, pacing the length of the Great House in search of something to do. The gardens were mostly deserted, although the heat was building. The fields surrounding Waset were lush and fruitful. In another ten or twenty days, the harvests would begin. It was a time for cool draughts of beer and hot, lazy nights.

A Qenbet was in session. Yugi made his way to the central hall, slipping in through the back door. A few nobles littered the room. At the foot of the dais stood Siamon and the governor, Mesech. They stood in deep conversation. Yugi made a circuit of the room, sliding past a group of courtiers. He caught a snippet of their conversation as he passed.

“The harvests will be abundant this year,” said one, coiffed and perfumed.

“True,” replied another. “But the more hands we have in the fields means the less in Kemet’s armies.”

A chill ran down his spine.

“What are you saying? It’s far too hot for war. No one will attack in this heat.”

“There’s no telling what people might do, in the name of a cause they believe in.” They were speaking solemnly, as serious as Yugi had ever seen them. If the _nobles_ were worried…

Yugi spun and walked up to the vizier. He’d never really spoken directly to Siamon, but this eyes were kind. He’d probably saved Yugi’s life, right at the beginning. “My lord?”

The old man turned, blinking. His grey hair was wild, unkempt. “Yugi? You’re not with Atem?”

“I - uh, no.” He hesitated. “Where is he?” Cold, flat eyes swept over his body. Mesech crossed his arms. He had the tall, thin lines of a priest.

“The Shadow Room,” replied Siamon. In his hands he held a wax tablet and he turned back to frown over it.

“You’re the King’s Sandal-Bearer?” Mesech tilted his head. His expression was grim. Whatever business had called him to the palace had left its mark.

“Yes.” Yugi glanced over at the short row of people waiting to be seen. “Not… an execution?”

“Perhaps.” Mesech followed his gaze. “There was a murder, but the suspected culprit has an alibi. It will be difficult to convict him.”

“Oh.” Sometimes he forgot that things like that were happening in the city. The palace seemed to be a world in and of itself.

The governor lifted one shoulder elegantly. “Regretful. The victim was one of my own slaves. I will have to find another to replace her.” All sympathy died. The man was callous.

Yugi gave a slight bow. “If you’ll excuse me, my lord.” He turned without waiting for a response, unconcerned that he was being so rude to the governor of Waset. If he stayed any longer he would make a greater mistake by telling the man exactly what he thought of him.

“One moment.” Meseech grabbed his arm, long, spindly fingers digging into the flesh.

“Hey-?” Yugi whirled round, only to find the man’s black eyes a cubit from his own. Siamon had his back turned and was paying them no attention. “What are you doing?”

“I know what you are, Sandal-Bearer,” hissed the man.

Yugi’s eyes widened. “I don’t know what you mean,” he said, gritting his jaw. “I’m just a scribe.”

“A scribe who sees more than he tells?”

The blood drained from his face. “How-?” The man smirked and Yugi cursed. “That is none of your concern.” Yugi shook the man off and stalked away, although he couldn’t immediately erase the cold spot at the centre of his back as he walked.

The main heat of the day was rising. Soon the servants would serve the midday meal and everyone would rest until it had passed. Yugi walked steadily through the corridors until he came to the wide, stone steps. Slowly he descended, moving into the large hall. Even expecting it, the size still sent a shock through him.

A number of cloaked figures stood in the centre of the room. Set and Mahaad - all of the Sacred Guardians, in fact. Atem sat on his throne, grim-faced. There were no monsters, not yet. Yugi made his way to the man’s side. Atem didn’t seem to even notice his presence. Yugi kept his eyes sternly on the Guardians. His chest felt as though it were slowly constricting, impeding his every breath. He could still feel a phantom echo of the kiss they’d shared four nights ago. Yugi dug his fingernails into skin. _Focus,_ he snapped at himself.

Something was happening on the battleground. Set and Mahaad split apart, standing opposite each other. They lifted their Millenium Items. A flash of light and one of the tablets glowed. From it came a gigantic serpent, coils glittering in the torchlight. Another materialised in front of Set, a dark hulking figure. The serpent struck suddenly, a quick flash of movement. A screech and the other monster stumbled back. Set stumbled with it. _Atem said they wouldn’t be hurt,_ he reminded himself. _This is just practice._

It didn’t _look_ like practice. The humanoid creature reached out, grasping the serpent’s coils between mammoth hands. It lashed furiously, screeching when the creature pulled it apart. The serpent disappeared in a white haze. A third creature took its place. Yugi winced as the two monsters clashed. The noise they made was eerie and he understood, suddenly, why this room was hidden so deeply underneath the palace.

A shriek of rage sent a shudder down his spine. Atem moved, slanting his head towards the scribe. Yugi looked up. Sweat made the man’s skin gleam like burnished gold. Crimson eyes were narrow, alight with a fire Yugi was beginning to recognise. His whole body flushed. This was not the king, whose cold glance and cruel eyes earned him instant obedience, nor was it the troubled young man who had kissed him so gently. This was the god.

“Yugi,” murmured Atem. His voice was raw silk over granite. “Wait for me in my quarters.”

Gulping, Yugi bowed. He tightened his shoulders and managed to leave the room without stumbling. The creatures kept on fighting, tearing into each other with a lust to destroy. Yugi barely saw the painted floor under his feet as he crossed the palace. His mind was awash with confused desire and he only realised where he was when he had one hand on the silk draped over Atem’s lion-pawed bed.

It was so hard to breathe. His heart was nestled in his throat. Atem had asked him to wait and he would wait. Here. In his room. By his bed. Yugi had seen that crimson fire before. It was the same fire that had lit Atem’s eyes on the lake, the god-fire that could have come from Amun himself. The fire that had burned into Yugi’s skin and seared his soul with ecstasy. Yugi wrapped his arms around his waist and stood at the edge of the balcony. Even here, shaded and protected, the heat was intense. A faint sheen of sweat lay on his skin, glistening in the sunlight.

 _What should I do?_ If Atem was coming here for… for _that_ , then he wanted Yugi. He shivered. Oh, _that_ was a seductive thought. Still, though... _Is this what I want?_ he asked himself. _To be used and discarded like so many others?_

 _He’s your king,_ said another part of him and, strangely, he felt relief. He didn’t _have_ to decide. Atem was his God. Whether he brought pain or swift, debilitating pleasure, Yugi was his, to do with as he pleased. He shivered. The thought should scare him, should make him feel something other than this coil of twisting desire.

It didn’t.

Something grazed his shoulder. Yugi jumped. Behind him came a deep chuckle. Atem. “You startled me,” he said.

Atem rested two hands on his shoulders. “My apologies,” he said softly. “You seemed deep in thought.” The man dropped a kiss on the column of his neck. Yugi tilted his head back, resting it on Atem’s strong shoulder. “What were you thinking of?” he asked.

“It’s nothing,” he said.

The king’s body pressed up against him, chest to shoulders and hips to hips. Hard heat nestled against the small of his back. A shudder of desire went through him. Atem wrapped his arms around Yugi’s chest. “What is it, Small Person?”

Yugi’s lips twitched at the endearment. He reached up to Atem’s hand, where it rested over his quickening heartbeat, and wound their fingers together. “Is Yaqarum gone?”

“The prince? Why do you ask?” Atem mouthed another kiss over the pulse in his throat.

It was difficult to concentrate. “I - I have a - a bad feeling,” he said, shivering as Atem licked him. The chill was chased away by his breath.

“Yaqarum left Waset days ago,” murmured Atem with a growl to his voice. “There is no need to think of him.” Yugi tightened his grip on Atem’s fingers. The king’s other hand lay flat on his stomach, a heavy, reassuring weight. His grip wasn’t tight; Yugi could pull away if he chose. Sighing, he tilted his head to the side. The king trailed wet, scorching kisses down to the hollow of Yugi’s collarbone, where he lingered, taking the bone between his lips and sucking at the skin. Yugi arched, instinctively flexing his collarbone up into Atem’s mouth and pressing his hips back.

Atem growled. Blunt teeth dug into Yugi’s skin. He cried out, eyes fluttering. The man’s hand slid over his stomach, skating over the soft material of his _shenti_ and cupping him through the fabric. “A-Atem,” he whispered. The king thrummed against his collarbone and _pressed_. “Nn!” Yugi canted his hips back, rubbing against Atem’s groin. Long fingers stroked down, a rapid movement that wrung a jolt of pleasure and another cry from him. The man still held his jaw, keeping him firmly fixed in place while he caressed him. Then Atem curved his hips into Yugi’s and ground the heel of his palm - “Oh,” gasped Yugi as a shock of pleasure made him see stars.

 _To Set with them all,_ Yugi decided. He wanted this. He wanted _Atem_. Yugi twisted around. Atem’s hands fell away and the king leaned back a fraction. Yugi closed the space between them. He wrapped his arms around Atem’s neck, relishing the quick thud of the other man’s heart against his own chest. Atem exhaled. He trailed his hands up to Yugi’s shoulders and took the scribe’s mouth with his own.

Atem kissed him like he was drunk on Yugi’s lips. The scribe pressed closer, opened his mouth to Atem’s tongue. His skin was on fire: how was it only Atem could make him feel like this? Blunt teeth sank into his lower lip. Yugi made a sound and pulled away, panting. “Please,” he begged, throat closing on the word.

Bronze limbs tangled with his own. Atem stripped off his _shenti_ and nipped, playfully, at the skin of his throat. Blood pounding in his ears, Yugi followed him eagerly to the bed. He felt the shift of weight as Atem joined him and then a hot palm slid up his thigh. Obediently, Yugi rolled onto his back, legs splayed. Atem curled over him, skin glistening with sweat and eyes burning. He grabbed the underside of Yugi’s knees and pulled his legs apart, spreading them wide. Flushing, Yugi curled his toes a little, embarrassed but unable to look away. Atem’s scent was magnified, cinnamon spice and salt. Between his legs hung the proof of his arousal, thick and heavy. Yugi clutched the silk beneath him tightly, knowing his eyes had widened to the size of the sun disc. He was panting, the sound of his breaths mingled with Atem’s.

Then a single, slick finger slid inside him. His breath hitched. “Amun…”

“Atem,” corrected the king. Atem was watching him, one hand between Yugi’s legs and the other on the bed supporting him. With effort, Yugi kept his legs where they were, but with every slight movement from Atem’s hand, his muscles jerked. He couldn‘t stop shivering. “Tell me,” said Atem roughly. “Tell me how it feels.”

“Good,” breathed Yugi. He could barely wrap his mind around the words. “So good.”

“And this?“ A second finger, nudging up against that part of his soul inside him which made stars explode behind his eyes. 

Yugi writhed. “Atem. Don’t - don’t stop,” he whispered.

Atem’s throat bobbed. He didn’t answer. His fingers curled and pressed up.

“Gods,” moaned Yugi, hips arching up. Instantly Atem tugged his hand away. Yugi whined, muscles clenching around the emptiness. “Please,” he whispered.

Atem’s breath hitched. He slipped between Yugi’s legs, drawing his hips up quickly. Then, with a muttered oath, Atem sank into his body.

Groaning, Yugi closed his eyes. His body wasn’t used to this. Silken skin brushed his chest and his own arousal. His eyes opened to narrow slits. Atem brushed a kiss over his cheek and slid one arm underneath him, cupping the small of his back. For a long, heady moment, neither of them moved. The tendons in Atem’s shoulders were so tight they stood out under his skin.

Breathing out a sigh, Yugi tilted his hips up. The king’s hold tightened and he flexed his hips. _Amun_. Pleasure trembled up through his body like a lightning storm. Yugi dropped his head and clutched the man’s shoulders. Atem rutted into him, each stroke driving pleasure through Yugi’s veins. Mouth parting on a broken gasp, Yugi tightened his thighs around Atem’s granite-strong hips. The friction of Atem’s undulating body was killing him with ecstasy.

“Gods,“ he choked. He dug his heels into the bed and lifted his hips, meeting Atem’s rapid movements with his own. _Please, yes, please Atem…_

Hot white bliss swept over him. His body tensed, surging up and contracting as each wave crested through him. Panting, Yugi endured the waves, relaxing slowly as they passed. His body had melted. Slowly he became aware of Atem, flesh slapping against his spread thighs. He moaned and the king shuddered, hands digging into Yugi‘s skin as he came. Yugi shivered. Atem’s mouth was parted and his head thrown back. The sight sent a twitch of desire through him. After a moment, Atem dropped down to his elbows, forehead against the bed by Yugi’s ear.

Yugi closed his eyes and turned his head the other way. He had to remember that this place, by Atem’s side, wasn’t his. But he couldn’t watch that same realisation form in the king’s eyes.

Atem lifted off him, damp skin peeling away. For the space of a heartbeat the king paused and Yugi felt his gaze on the side of his face. Then he pulled away. The separation of their bodies made Yugi wince. He was wet in a number of uncomfortable places and the air chilled the sweat pooling on his skin. The bed shifted and he opened his eyes.

Beside him lay the king, one arm flung over his eyes. He said nothing and, as Yugi watched, his breathing deepened into sleep.

Yugi pushed himself into a sitting position and then to his feet. Gathering his _shenti_ , he wrapped it quickly around his waist and slipped through the king‘s quarters and away. Not once did he look back at Atem.


	30. Chapter 30

__

x

Yugi stood in the eastern court, an enclosed pavilion near the central hall, waiting to be called. Atem lounged on a cushioned chair a short distance away, surrounded by his Guardians. Their faces were grim.

He shifted his weight and grimaced. Every time he moved, a faint pulse of discomfort echoed through his body. There was a bruise smeared over his collarbone that he was trying very hard to ignore. Yugi found that if he stared at one spot and focussed all his energy on it, he could go for long minutes without once thinking about the sheen of sweat on bronze skin or the gleam of crimson under dark lashes. Unfortunately, as Atem’s Sandal-Bearer, he had to stay by the king‘s side as much as possible. He sighed. It was distracting.

“So you’re the favourite now, I hear.”

Yugi stiffened. “What?” He cut a glance to the side.

Merwt’i smiled at him. “At least _one_ of us is in his good humour.” He winked and Yugi relaxed a fraction.

“I - I suppose.” The way that Merwt’i described it made it sound like a regular occurrence. Yugi wondered how many servants had lost themselves to Atem before him. Had turned into the king’s whore. His stomach clenched and he felt ill.

“I wonder what they’re so worried about,” said Merwt’i, pale eyes watching the Guardians. Since Yugi had taken over his position, the boy had served the other Sacred Guardians, where necessary, or the highest-ranking nobles in the palace. Yugi rarely saw him. “I thought that the pressure would ease now that the prince has gone, but after that murder, it just seems to be getting worse.”

“Murder?” Yugi recalled the quiet, solemn aura pervading the central hall. “You mean yesterday?”

“Mm. Mesech’s slave. They found her body in the river, carved all over with curses.” The boy shuddered.

_That’s the second one,_ thought Yugi, frowning. Tiny bumps rose on the skin of his arms, despite the warm weather. _Someone else who won’t be missed._ Not by the governor, that was for sure. Mesech’s voice floated through his mind. _I know what you are._ What had he meant? That Yugi was in Atem’s confidence? Or did he know - could he know about the things Yugi saw in his dreams? _They’re just dreams,_ he told himself. He saw again Atem, lying on the fields outside Waset, an arrow through his heart.

_Who dreams when they’re awake?_

“Merwt’i.” A harem girl bounced up to them, silver bangles chiming as she moved. Her eyes were clear, deep blue. She smiled at Yugi without malice. “Would you like something to drink?”

Yugi shook his head. “No, thank you,” he replied. There was a delicate hierarchy to the palace that he was still trying to understand. Although he and Merwt’i were servants, there were other, lower-classed servants, like the harem girls, who would answer to them.

“Khyt.” Merwt’i dropped his voice. “I hear Djenwt has been shattering a few things recently.”

The girl rolled her eyes. “If it wasn’t bad enough that the King hasn’t summoned her once this year, Yaqarum turned her down. We won’t hear the end of it for the next season.” Swallowing, Yugi couldn’t stop the quick flick of his eyes towards that bright crown of jagged gold-red locks. Djenwt was - _had been?_ he wondered - Atem’s favourite of the harem.

“Probably for the better. There was something strange about that man.”

“You mean Prince Yaqarum?” asked Yugi.

Khyt drew a little closer. “He was locked in with the king for hours before he left.” A frisson of unease made Yugi stir. Gossiping in the Great House was unwise at best, but doing so this close to the king was dangerous. “I thought they were actually going to give him the pyramid.”

He froze. “Atem was going to _give_ him the Sacred Pyramid?” he hissed.

She shook her head. “Not the _real_ one.”

“Real one - what do you mean?”

Merwt’i angled his body so that their conversation was shielded. “Go on,” he said softly. “Tell him.”

After a moment, Khyt nodded and said, “I heard some of the General’s soldiers talking.” Yugi didn’t bother asking her how. She was a harem girl. “The Guardians have created a false pyramid. They were planning to give it to the prince if they needed to. No one’s supposed to know.” She shrugged. “I don’t know why they didn’t. Maybe he didn’t want anything like that.”

Yaqarum would have given his right arm to have that item, but the prince wasn’t stupid. The Sacred Pyramid had a kind of dark power embedded in it; magic. No replica could take its place. _But if Atem was willing to go that far…._

“Hey - Stop!”

A nimble figure darted through the guards and into the court. He collapsed onto the ground, chest heaving for breath. His eyes were bloodshot and his lips cracked. “Majesty,” he croaked.

At once the Sacred Guardians were on their feet, items of power gleaming in the sunlight. Yugi flinched. He could feel their power rising like dawn mist. “Who are you?” said Karim, stepping between the stranger and the king.

“I have a message,” panted the man. “Only - only for the King.”

Atem shouldered past Karim. “Speak,” he said and the messenger prostrated himself on the ground.

“Majesty,” he whispered. “The village Men-Iaru has been attacked.”

Shocked whispers rose among the servants. Atem silenced them with a gesture. “When?”

“Two days ago.” Men-Iaru was close to Nekhen, between the city and the desert. There was nothing there besides farms and people. Yugi realised that his hands were clenched.

“Survivors?” asked Set.

“I fear none, my lord,” replied the messenger. He looked a hair’s breadth from collapsing. “Sand-dwellers came in the night and burned the village to the ground. They took children as captives and slaughtered the rest.” _Children!_ thought Yugi.

Akhenaden stepped forward. One eye narrowed and the other - the other held a glint of gold. Yugi shuddered. “We should recall the General,” said the Guardian. “These rebels may try to strike at Waset.”

“He is escorting the prince,” replied Set quickly. His gaze was on Atem. “It is important to ensure that Yaqarum leaves Kemet as well.”

“The soldiers can accomplish that alone,” said another Guardian - Shada, Yugi remembered. “Is our King’s safety not the most important task?” Set’s eyes narrowed to two glowing slits of lapis.

Atem clapped his hands together. “This man will henceforth be known as the Eyes of Akhenre,” he declared. “Give him food and drink. See that he rests.” The messenger withdrew, showering the king with gracious praise. “Siamon,” said the king. “Send a contingent of soldiers to the village. Order them to search for any survivors. Send word to the General and bid him return to Waset.” The vizier nodded.

“The Sand-dwellers are a nomadic people,” murmured Isis. She was frowning, hand pressed against her golden necklace. “They have not instigated such violence in years. Why now?”

“Perhaps they feel that Kemet is weakened,” said Akhenaden. “The king has been grieving for some time, and now the _A’amu_ are marshalling their forces. It is a good time to strike.”

Atem said nothing. He sat back in the shade, hands curled over the arms of his chair. The Guardians continued to argue. Yugi twined his hands in the soft linen of his _shenti_. Men-Iaru was close to Waset, closer than the land of the _A’amu_. This attack was not far from his world. He eyed the king. Atem looked more concerned with the state of his nails than the debate currently circling around him.

Yugi closed his eyes and uttered a silent prayer to Isis. _Please,_ he thought. _Watch over your son. Protect him from danger._

__

x


	31. Chapter 31

_x_

Yugi couldn’t shake an ominous feeling that something was about to happen. Every time that he saw Atem, there were dark shadows curling around the Pyramid. In the end Yugi slipped away, cutting through the King’s House to Mahaad’s quarters. With every step he grew more nervous, wary of the shadowed corners. Rebels were within reach of the city - of the palace - and his dreams were darker than ever.

“Mana?” The young girl blinked at him. Her hair was frazzled and from the rooms behind her came a viscous, rancid stench. “Uh, are you all right?”

She shook back her hair and laughed. “Of course I am, Yugi. Why do you ask?”

A scattering of ash lay on the floor. “No - no reason,” he replied, staring at it. “Mahaad’s not here, is he.”

She looked relieved. “No, he’s not. I’ve still got time. I mean-” Mana placed her hands on her hips. “No. He’s with Set. I think you should go there to see him.”

Yugi eyed a strand of olive mist seeping into the corridor. “You know, I think you’re right. I’ll just - just leave you to it.” He walked away very quickly. A few minutes after he had rounded the corner, a muffled _boom_ trembled through the palace walls. _I do not envy Mahaad when he returns._

Set’s quarters were closer to the King’s House, so Yugi retraced his steps. The high priest stood with Mahaad in the antechamber, leaning over a low wooden table. Across it they’d strewn stone tablets and a large sheaf of papyrus. At Yugi’s entrance Set’s eyebrow ticked up. “Yugi. Pass me that roll of papyrus on your right.” It lay a cubit from his elbow. Rolling his eyes, Yugi handed it to Set. It felt comfortable, standing by his side again. Yugi realised that he’d missed it.

“There is something here,” said Mahaad. He was poring over a stone inscription, tracing the hieroglyphs with his fingers. “Mention of a magician who trades in souls, although this scribe is badly trained. There are mistakes everywhere. Nothing like you, Yugi,” he added and the boy flushed.

“Thank you,” he said. “What are you doing?”

“Trying to find precedent.” There were fine crinkles between Set’s brows.

“Precedent for what?”

Mahaad straightened, rubbing away his own frown with one hand. “There have been two murders recently - I think you’re aware of them already?” Yugi nodded. “Two bodies. There were spells carved into their skin. Nothing that we’ve seen before.” Set shook his head wordlessly, still examining the papyrus. “There might be some record in the House’s archives.”

“Have you found anything?”

A shrug. “Not yet.” Yugi recalled the young man, bloated from the river and marked all over. He felt a wave of nausea hit him and gripped the table.

“It has something to do with the Shadow Realm,” muttered Set. “And the spells keep mentioning the ka. A youth of the soul. But what does that mean?”

“Can I help you at all, Yugi?” asked Mahaad. “Or are you here to see the High Priest?” The magician stepped away from the table, clearing space on another desk. A couple of slim glass containers quivered. One toppled over and Yugi grabbed it. The liquid inside was murky, tinged faintly with blue.

At the thought of explaining his odd, unfounded feelings, the things he was seeing, Yugi bit his lip. “What’s this?” he asked instead.

“A narcotic compound, made from the petals of the lotus flower. Set’s been brewing them in secret; another way of keeping an eye on our enemy Prince. Best not tell anyone about them, Yugi,” he said. Mahaad replaced it among its brethren. The others were different colours; white and pink and violet. Pretty. The man eyed him. “Yugi? Are you all right?”

“I…” Yugi bit his lip. “Mahaad, do you think that dreams-?”

“ _Wba_? Yugi?” He spun around. A young slave hovered in the doorway. When he caught sight of Yugi he bowed. “ _Nsw bity_ Akhenre requests your presence in his quarters.”

Yugi couldn’t stop the slow flush of heat over his face. Mahaad was watching him. “If you’ll excuse me, my lord.” A nod and Yugi followed the slave out of the room.

The slave left him a few minutes later and Yugi continued alone. He was as familiar with this path to Atem’s quarters as the one to his own. Even in the dark. A shiver ran through him and lust uncoiled in his belly. Sternly he tamped it down.

It was a little cooler in Atem’s quarters, but not by much. Yugi fiddled with the wooden bangle around his wrist and avoided looking at the bed. The king emerged, hair tousled and skin damp. He was dressed as plainly as Yugi had ever seen him, in a white _shenti_ not unlike Yugi’s own, with none of his customary golden accessories. His skin gleamed. Yugi felt his mouth water and he swallowed. _What’s_ wrong _with me?_

“Yugi,” murmured the king and crooked his fingers. “Come here.” Yugi padded over, the sound of his movements thunderous in the room. He stopped by the wall. Atem had turned away, was busy with something on a table beside the bed. Yugi wondered if they’d play _senet_. “Turn around,” came the king’s voice. Obeying, Yugi turned to face the wall. Something passed over his vision. Yugi blinked. Atem’s hands touched the back of his neck and a weight rested on his chest. He glanced down.

It was an _usekh_ collar. Gleaming silver ringed his neck, threaded with dozens of amethyst gems. Among them Yugi could see tiny white pearls, cored and speared onto silvery thread. The violet gems made his skin look luminous. Yugi touched it reverently. “ _Per-a’ah_ ,” he whispered. _Is this… for me?_ “Amethyst?”

“It will bring out the colour in your eyes,” came the king’s voice. He steered Yugi to face a large silver mirror on the head of a statue of Hathor. A finger stroked down his neck. “Do you like it?”

“I…” Yugi shook his head. Atem was a golden shadow behind him. Words were inadequate. “This is… It’s - it’s perfect,” he said finally.

“I’m pleased.”

The pyramid sat on a stool by the bed. “ _Per-a’ah_ ,” said Yugi.

“Mm?”

“Is the pyramid safe, here?” he asked.

“The pyramid?” Atem’s hands paused on their slow inventory of his shoulder blades and Yugi shivered.

“With the attack and Prince Yaqarum so nearby…”

Atem drew away. “I don’t wish to think of the prince, now, Yugi.” He stopped by the bed and held out his hand. “Come to bed.”

The scribe blushed. Atem had never asked him this directly before. Had never _asked_ him before. Atem smirked in a way that destroyed Yugi’s line of thought. He swallowed and placed his hand in the king’s.

Atem turned his hand over. He pressed a kiss to the inside of Yugi’s wrist and sucked on the pulse there. A shiver ran up Yugi’s arm and curled into his chest. He exhaled shakily. Then Atem released him, slid his hand up to Yugi’s elbow. Heat from Atem’s skin sank into Yugi’s own. He touched Atem’s chest, hesitantly, darting a glance up to see if this was permitted. The king parted his lips. He tilted Yugi’s chin up with his other hand. Yugi’s eyelashes fluttered as Atem kissed him.

It was as though Yugi held the breath of life in his throat and Atem was trying to draw it out of him. With a muffled sound, Yugi chased the man’s tongue around his mouth. He realised that he was standing on his toes, clutching Atem for support. Their mouths parted, wetly. Atem blinked a few times. If he wasn’t Atem, Yugi would have called the expression on his face dazed. His heart trembled, regardless.

Atem brushed his lips in a kiss that was more breath than substance. He tugged Yugi forward, onto the bed. The scribe followed. Atem’s arms were warm, and within them he felt safer than if he’d stood beside Jou. He pressed against bare skin. Atem was no longer wearing his _shenti_. “Atem,” he said, then stopped. He was half-sitting, half-lying on the king’s bed.

“Mm?” Atem paused over him and tilted his head, cat-like. Lust darkened his eyes to blood-red. Yugi shivered. Shyly, he reached down and wrapped his hand around Atem’s arousal. “Yugi.” With a groan, Atem hunched his shoulders. He pressed his forehead to Yugi’s shoulder. Slowly Yugi stroked him, twisting his hand the way he did to himself. He drank in the sound of Atem’s hitched, growling breaths. There was a kind of beast inside him that only wanted more. Eyelashes fluttered against his skin. “Enough,” whispered Atem. He drew away, but his gaze swept over Yugi’s body like a brand. “Turn over, Yugi.”

The scribe forced himself to break eye contact. He rolled onto his stomach. A purr and Atem closed his mouth - his teeth - around Yugi’s neck. Catching his breath, Yugi let his head fall forward. The damp heat of Atem’s tongue lathed his skin and Yugi felt it give slightly under the man’s teeth. Gentle. Atem was being so gentle. He moaned. That curl of lust was a blaze. “Atem.” His body was singing for the man, yearning for the feel of skin against his own.

Atem’s hands slid down his back and Yugi arched into the touch. His _shenti_ was untangled and discarded. Yugi shivered. The king’s mouth followed his hands, trailing suckling wet kisses along his spine. Yugi closed his eyes. Atem paused at the base of his spine, his hands cupping Yugi’s ass - kneading it. “Open for me,” murmured Atem.

Gulping, Yugi slid his legs apart. A liquid touch against the skin between his thighs made him jerk. “A-Atem?”

“Mm,” hummed the king.

Then Yugi felt his tongue slip _inside_. Yugi cried out. He clenched his hands in the silk. He could feel it, slick and wet and hot, so hot. “Gods,” he moaned. “ _Oh_ , don’t stop, please, please...” Arcs of pleasure shot through his groin. A bead of pearlescent liquid oozed from his arousal. Atem was kneeling between his legs, licking and sucking, omitting slurping noises that should have disgusted Yugi. Instead they inflamed his desire, to the point that he felt his body quake. He arched his hips. “ _Please_ ,” he begged.

The man bit him on the curve of his cheek. A whimper escaped him. That one would leave a mark. Atem’s mouth left him. Boneless, Yugi slumped onto the silk. Need still drove him and he struggled up onto his knees. A low, muttered curse. Atem pressed against him. Yugi felt him slip against his skin - wet from the king’s saliva. He mewled. “Yugi,” whispered Atem, breath hot against his ear and voice raw. Yugi arched his hips, flushed with heat.

“Oh,” he sighed as Atem pushed into him. His body yielded softly, with a twinge of pain. Full, Yugi’s thighs were pushed even wider as Atem nestled between them. A whimper escaped his throat. The king’s hands glided around his hips and then Atem was moving, nudging into him. Slowly, at first, then building on long, deep strokes that had Yugi writhing beneath him. Yugi’s mouth hung open as he panted. Each thrust shook a cry out of him, rhythmic little a-ahs that he couldn’t stop. Ecstasy shot down to the tips of his fingers. He arched, back bowing until he thought he would break in two. Atem thrust into him, so deep, and the black spots in his vision became a waterfall of drunk pleasure. With a groan, Yugi sunk down onto the bed, wrung dry. Distantly he felt Atem shake, grinding deep inside Yugi’s body as pleasure took him.

Languid warmth curled up his spine. Yugi remained still as his breathing steadied. Atem settled down next to him, limbs sticky and hot against his own. An arm curled round his waist and the other man huffed out a sigh. Yugi’s eyes fluttered open. Atem melted into him, breath ruffling the strands of his hair and arms still around him.

Yugi wriggled slightly and Atem’s arm tightened. He froze. The man’s breathing was deep and even - was he asleep? Yugi waited, tension thrumming through his so-recently sated muscles, but Atem kept hold of him. Smiling, he turned his face into the bed and breathed in the scent of Atem. It wound into his lungs and settled there, purring.

It was getting easier and easier, making love to a king.

_x_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the comments and the kudos! Right now in terms of kudos Blue Lotus is the highest ranked fic in the Yu-Gi-Oh! fandom here at AO3.
> 
> This makes me happy. Very, very happy. ^^


	32. Chapter 32

_x_

Yugi woke to the scent of fresh lotus flowers. _Flowers…?_ He didn’t usually have lotus blossoms in his room. Unless Ryou had gone out into the city to barter for them?

Slowly his eyes fluttered open. The hazy world solidified, although for a moment Yugi didn’t recognise it. Sumptuous, decadent colours and ethereal silks. Underneath the lotus he could smell fruit, succulent and straight off the vine. Feather-soft linen was wrapped around his legs and Yugi untangled himself with some difficulty, sitting up. Abandoned by the side of the bed sat the Sacred Pyramid. In a flash Yugi realised where he was.

The king was absent. With the pyramid here, he couldn’t be too far away. _He let me sleep through the night._ Yugi felt a thrill wash through him, easing the ache in his lower back. It was after dawn. Atem probably had many things to do; Yugi doubted that his generosity would stretch to tolerating a lazy servant. He struggled out of the bed’s warm embrace and dressed in his _shenti_. Across his shoulders hung the collar. Amethyst stones glittered and Yugi touched it, relishing the way it fit so perfectly against his skin. Collars like these, worked so finely, sometimes cost as much as an entire estate. Yugi wondered with guilty pleasure how much Atem had spent acquiring it.

A faint mewl reached him. Yugi paused. Another, drifting up from the far corner of Atem’s rooms. Curiously he followed the sound and knelt down by a small chest. Peering behind it, Yugi laughed. “Nefret, so there you are.” She lay on her side, flanked by three tiny, squirming bodies. Kittens. Delighted, Yugi tousled the fur between her ears. “Well done, lady. They’re beautiful.” Their eyes weren’t open yet, but they’d be striped, like their mother, and pretty enough to rival the goddess of fertility herself. Yugi left them there, resolving to tell Ryou as soon as the slave appeared.

He was close to the coronation hall when he heard his name. Jou strode through the lotus columns towards him. He was grinning, but his body was spattered with mud and dust. “Jou! You’re back!”

“Morning, Yugi. Survived all right without me?”

“Yes.” His cheeks heated. “Definitely.”

Jou’s gaze alighted on the broad collar and widened. “What happened to you? Is that - are those _pearls_?” Yugi nodded. Oddly, though, Jou didn’t look so pleased. His gaze flicked down, over Yugi’s neck and shoulders. Yugi hadn’t seen his own reflection, yet: he wondered if Atem had left marks, this time. “From who?”

He shook his head, then. “Oh, it’s not - it’s from the King. From Atem.”

“Huh.” The soldier frowned, mouth pressed into a thin line. “That so? No need to ask if you like it; you’re lit up like you’ve got all of the Aten inside you.” Yugi laughed. “Are you all right, then?”

Yugi thought of Nefret with her kittens and Atem, hands gliding over his skin. “Yes.”

“Just… be careful, yeah?” In his tone was a warning. “You don’t know Atem yet. At best he’s fickle, at worst… You haven’t seen how cruel he can be.”

“But…” Yugi stamped down on a protest. Jou was his friend. He had only seen the king, the mask that Atem showed the rest of Kemet. “I understand.” He smiled to take any sting out of the dismissal.

The General ran a hand through his wild golden hair. Sand flaked off and floated to the ground. “I have to see the Guardians in a couple of hours. It’s going to be a long one tonight, Yugi.” Sympathetic, the scribe walked him to his quarters. Jou and his men had taken Yaqarum as far as Abdju before he received the order to return. Jou wasn‘t entirely unhappy about leaving the man. From what he said about Yaqarum, Jou seemed to dislike him as strongly as the rest of them.

At midday Yugi ate in Jou’s quarters as the General changed. It was close to the afternoon by the time a servant ordered him to the Great Hall. Jou tousled his hair before he left. “Better go back to your rooms for now, Yugi. I don’t know how long this’ll take, and I bet Atem won’t be happy with whatever those old Guardians have got to say.” He departed with a wave.

Alone, Yugi wandered slowly back to his quarters. He wasted a few hours re-reading the _Eloquent Peasant_ and wondering where Ryou had got to. By the time the sun had started to set, he was wide awake and so bored he’d given himself a headache. Sighing, Yugi discarded his papyrus. _I wonder if they’ve finished yet._ Twice, now, Atem had come back to Yugi exhausted and pensive. If he was left alone, Yugi could well imagine him sitting on the balcony until well into the morning, neglecting food and sleep. _I should make sure he’s all right._

Resolved, Yugi hopped to his feet. He removed the precious collar, laying it out carefully and straightening the tiny pearls. Instead, he wore Atem’s leather wristband, pushing it up to sit snugly around his bicep. Ryou’s wooden bangle was a reassuring weight on his arm. He reached Atem’s quarters before night fell. The guards let him through wordlessly and Yugi blushed, hoping he hadn’t been too vocal the night before.

At first he thought the rooms were empty, but then he saw Atem’s wild hair, cast in red and black shadow. The king was standing by a window, arms crossed and fingers digging into his upper arms. “ _Nsw_?” asked Yugi quietly.

Atem turned his head, examining the scribe from the corner of his eye. “What is it, Yugi?”

The sound of his name - such a simple thing - sent an evocative shiver through him. “I - I came to see if you were well, Majesty.”

He turned away, but Yugi caught the words that floated back over his shoulder. “I am well, Small Person.”

Yugi crept closer. “Was the Qenbet successful?” he enquired. Tension was obvious in the line of Atem’s shoulders.

“In part.” A deep sigh. Atem strode away from the window and folded into his chair, slender legs settling carelessly where they’d fallen. He dropped his chin into his hand. “A messenger returned from my soldiers. There were no survivors at Men-Iaru.”

Mouth parting, Yugi felt a wave of sympathy for the man - man, this time, not god or king. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

Atem lifted a sinewy shoulder. “They only found bodies. Children, largely, inscribed with yet more spells.”

Yugi gnawed at his lower lip. He felt impotent, just standing there. His king was uneasy. Taking his courage in both hands, Yugi padded softly over to Atem’s seat. He sank to his knees in the space between the man’s legs, placing his hands gently on Atem’s thighs. Kohl-rimmed eyes blinked down at him. Here, they looked much darker, almost blood-red.

His throat was dry. Silently, Yugi walked his fingers to the very top of Atem’s thighs, wordlessly offering whatever comfort he could provide. Atem placed the pad of his thumb against Yugi’s lips. Opening his mouth, Yugi glided his lips over the digit, flicking his tongue against the salt-sweet skin. Something flickered in those dark red eyes and he felt his own body quiver in response.

“Yugi…”

Slowly, breathlessly, Yugi loosened the king’s _shendyt_. Gradually he revealed more of Atem’s burnished skin, following a line of dark hair down his rippled abdomen. The man threaded a hand through Yugi’s hair, grazing blunt nails over his scalp. Yugi’s breathing quickened. Atem was responding, hardening in front of his eyes. Yugi felt his own eyes widen, felt the way his mouth opened, wet and wanton. He’d heard the harem girls boast of their talents, seen it, once or twice, but he’d never once been filled with the raw desire to bend his mouth to another man’s arousal and suck it dry. Never once before now.

Eagerly, he dipped his head, breathing in the scent of him. From the edge of his vision he saw Atem’s chest rise and fall; quick, sporadic movements. His tongue darted out, pink against dark, deep red. Atem shuddered. The taste of him was strong, more so than Yugi had expected. He tasted the way he smelt. With a sharp little keening sound, Yugi opened his mouth as widely as he could and sank down. He drew Atem into his mouth, suckling as best he could. Saliva dripped from the corner of his mouth but he could feel the man swelling against his tongue. Atem groaned.

Breathing heavily through his nose, Yugi reached down and pressed a palm against his own arousal. His jaw was stretched to the point of pain and all he could taste was the salt-spice of Atem, but lust was searing through him. He curved his hips a little and the resulting shock of pleasure made him moan. Fingers clenched in his hair, sharp and nearly painful. Yugi dragged his mouth over Atemu’s arousal, sucking and swallowing and pushing his own hand hard against his groin. _Gods_ , he thought, dizzy and immensely, insatiably _hungry_. His throat tightened instinctively and Yugi shook as the ecstasy of his own release hit him. Atem hissed and his mouth flooded with thick fluid, wet and sour. Yugi swallowed it down hazily, finally sitting back with a gasp. His body trembled and the front of his _shenti_ was soaked through.

Panting, Yugi rested his head on Atem’s thigh. Atem’s grip loosened. The man gentled his fingers, stroking them through his hair. Yugi sighed, eyes falling closed. His mouth tasted foul, but his cushion was soft and smelt of spice and salt. He remained there, kneeling at the king’s feet. Atem’s gentle caress soothed him, steadied his breathing. It felt as though they were the only two people in all Kemet.

“It is as if our bodies are twin,” murmured Atem. “You could be my living image.” _Of course,_ thought Yugi with a ripple of amusement. _He could not be my living image._ “But our baw are so different… How is this possible?” he mused.

“Like two halves,” Yugi whispered, as if Kemet would fall apart if it heard him. The king hummed. His fingers scratched over a tender spot and Yugi purred.

“You continually amaze me, Small Person,” murmured Atem.

“Only because I beat you at senet,” he replied.

Atem laughed softly. “Much more than that,” he said. “Come. We’re both tired.” Yugi grumbled as his cushion moved. Atem gathered Yugi and all his languid limbs into his arms. The scribe took a deep breath, resting his head on Atem’s shoulder. They slid into Atem’s bed together and Yugi fell asleep with his head on the king’s chest.

_x_


	33. Chapter 33

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's such a short one!

_x_

There was a dark presence just at the edge of his dream. No matter how quickly he turned, Yugi could not catch sight of it. He spun in a circle, surrounded by shadows blacker than sin. It was _in here with him._

Yugi bolted awake. He blinked beads of sweat from his eyes and rubbed at his face. _Just a dream_. Atem was stretched out on the other side of the bed, head thrown back. The long column of his throat gleamed.

Sighing, Yugi sat up and slid out of the bed. The front of his _shenti_ was stiff. Atem stirred a little but didn’t wake. Soft, sultry breezes rustled through the room. Yugi’s eyes felt a little sore, but sleep was out of his grasp for now. He sat by the chest, resting his head in the palm of his hand. Nefret was asleep, her kittens curled up next to her belly. The sight drew a smile from him.

Moonlight cast silvery shadows over the furniture. _Maybe I should leave,_ he thought. _Atem might not have intended that I be here when he wakes._ His smile dropped away.

Then Yugi paused. The king’s rooms were silent save for the rustle of the wind and, far away, the cry of an ibis. Perhaps he’d imagined it. Then he heard another thump. Frowning, Yugi got to his feet. _It’s probably nothing,_ he thought uneasily. _But it’s so late…_

A dark feeling pushed against the back of his head, triggering a spike of pain behind his eye. Flinching, Yugi raised a hand to his head. _What…?_ It was as if the feeling from his dream had chased him into reality.

Another dull, muted noise and Yugi tensed. His skin was crawling. Squinting, he slipped past the bed and stood in the doorway to the antechamber. _The guards will have everything under control,_ he told himself. _I should go back-_

Movement at the door. He froze. Three men slipped into the antechamber, shoulders hunched. They wore patterned loincloths and short, curled wigs. _Rebels!_ They stood for a moment, motionless as they scanned the room. Yugi inched backwards. _They’re here for Atem. I need to get to Atem-_ One of them turned. It was one of the men from Nekhen, the one who had stood at the end of the alley and called off his friend. Yugi‘s eyes widened. “You!” he cried.

Instantly the air went still. Each of the intruders swung to face him. Yugi felt the beat of his heart stop and then start up again, reverberating through his whole body. He stumbled back. Muttering a foreign oath, the Nekhen rebel leapt after him.

Quickly Yugi grabbed a low stool and flung it behind him. The man tripped, snarling. _Weapon, I need a weapon! Why can’t I find a weapon?!_ Something latched onto his ankle. Crying out, Yugi fell forward. He slammed into the ground, pain shooting up his elbows and hips.

Rolling onto his back, Yugi kicked out. The heel of his foot smashed into the assassin’s nose. A choked shout. More pain radiated through his foot. Another of the intruders leapt through the arch. His face was suffused with fury.

“ _Iw shedi khaty’k kekkw_!” The king stood, pyramid in one hand, the other outstretched towards the rebel. Black shadows twined around his fingers. Instantly the man’s face grew slack. His body crumpled and he dropped to the floor. _How-?_

A hiss of metal. Yugi swivelled. The rebel was drawing his sword, blood dripping across his face. Yugi scrambled away. A curl of smoke wrapped around the man’s eyes. Yugi saw a tinge of crimson in its depths. It seeped into his skin and he collapsed with a scream that sent chills down Yugi’s spine.

“Atem!” Something smashed. Yugi struggled to his feet. Jou had the third intruder with a khopesh against his neck. Breathing heavily, Yugi leant against the wall. His heart was pounding. Snarling, the General yanked on the man’s hair. “Sand-dwellers. Two more came in through the East Court.” At that moment, another soldier entered, his face drawn. “Bek,” said Jou quickly. “Take this one down. I’ll be there in a minute.”

“No.” Atem’s eyes were cold. “I will interrogate him myself,” he said and strode ahead of the soldier, out of the room.

“Here. Take him.” Jou shoved the rebel at the other guard, and the man dragged him out of the room. Jou rolled his shoulders, wincing. “Are you all right?” asked Yugi softly.

“I’m fine.” He eyed the scribe. “What about you? Are you hurt?” Wordlessly, Yugi shook his head. He wasn’t, but fine tremors ran through his limbs and his heart felt like it would give up at any moment. _I almost_ \- Atem _almost_ \- “That damn A’amu prince,” muttered Jou.

“Yaqarum? What do you mean? I thought they were Sand-dwellers - nomads?” he said, frowning. That man had been in Nekhen. Yugi cast a glance at the two bodies lying motionless on the tiled floor. _What did Atem do to them?_

“Both Set and Mahaad think all this has something to do with the prince.” He sheathed his khopesh, gripping the handle tightly. “I think they’re right. Atem should’ve just given up the Pyramid while he had the chance.”

Yugi stared at him. “What? _Give up_ the Pyramid? But-” He shook his head. “It’s one of the sacred Sennen Items, isn’t it?”

Scowling, Jou kicked at the assassin’s body. “We could get it back in a heartbeat, we just need the time. Yaqarum’s just a prince, an idiot. While he’s busy trying to figure out how to work the thing, I could get up there and finish this for good.”

His fists were clenched. Yugi stared at them. Something was unfolding at the back of his mind - something dangerous and utterly, irrevocably stupid. “You could get it back?”

“Tch. My soldiers are unbeatable.”

Yugi frowned. “But how would you even know where they were?”

“I already know where they are,” Jou snorted. “On the other side of _Ta-sekhet-ma’at_ , between the hills and the Southern Oasis. They’re not hiding. Yaqarum must’ve circled back around after I left him.”

“Then - is Atem in danger?”

“As long as he has that Pyramid, Yaqarum will keep sending assassins.” A muscle ticked in Jou’s jaw. “And even Atem’s damn shadow magic can’t hold them off forever.”

“But, why not give him the false pyramid?”

“False-?” Jou jerked to look at him. “How do you know about that? Wait,” he said, throwing a hand up. “Don’t tell me. Merwt’i?” Yugi nodded and Jou looked rueful. “That boy is going to get himself killed,” he muttered. “Atem refused,” he added, louder. “He said Yaqarum would see it for what it is. It has to be the real thing or nothing, and that he wasn’t willing to give up.” After a moment he sighed. “I’ll get someone to clear this away. You sure you’re all right?”

Yugi nodded, but he was no longer paying attention. Cold spread through his chest. He thought of his vision, of Atem lying on the ground with an arrow through his chest.

He wouldn’t - _couldn’t_ \- let that happen.

_x_


	34. Chapter 34

_x_

The amethyst and pearl collar settled around his neck with an ease that made Yugi wince with guilt. He slid on the king’s armband, pushing it up until it sat on the curve of his bicep. Atem’s throne name was branded across his skin. He lay Ryou’s wooden bangle on the bed. Its simple protection spell wasn’t something that a courtier - or a king - would wear. The only other possessions he had were his scribal palette and the beautiful carved statue from Atem. _I can’t take them_ , he realised, glancing at the woven linen bag on his bed. _It’s too small._ Sighing, he turned his back on them.

“Yugi?” Yugi whirled. Ryou stood in the doorway, brows furrowed. “What are you doing?”

Yugi shifted, standing in front of his bag. “Um, I - I need to go into Waset.”

The slave leaned around him and quirked an eyebrow. “With all of this? What do you need to go into the city for?”

“I…” _Why can’t I think of something?_ “I…”

Ryou stared at him. “Yugi, what’s going on?”

Yugi sighed. The slave waited silently. “Assassins attacked us last night.”

“Assassins! Are you all right?” Ryou stepped up to him quickly, concern bright in his gaze. “Were you hurt?”

“No. No, but…” He swallowed. “The king is in danger. Jou thinks that the assassins are camped out beyond _Ta-sekhet-ma’at_.” He continued packing, moving with sharp, jerky movements. “If I can take the Sennen Pyramid to them, I might be able to stop any more attacks.”

“The _Sennen Pyramid_!” hissed Ryou. “But, Yugi, that’s - that’s so dangerous! How? _Why_?”

“I have to protect him,” muttered Yugi, folding up his spare _shenti_ and shoving it inside.

There was a moment of silence, then a hand touched his shoulder. Ryou was looking at him, brown eyes steady. “Atem? Why?”

“What?”

“Why do you have to protect him?” asked Ryou.

Yugi blinked. “Because he’s my king.”

“Yugi…” The slave sighed.

“They would’ve killed him, Ryou,” he said, feeling a shock of fear and nausea. His hands stopped, tightening on the linen. Bile surged at the back of his throat. “If I hadn’t been there, hadn’t woken before… They would’ve slit his throat. Left him choking on his own blood.” He _knew_ it, as surely as he knew he was breathing.

“Shh.” Fingers combed through his hair. Yugi blinked his eyes open - he hadn’t even realised he’d closed them. “All right, all right.” Ryou was frowning deeply, but his movements were gentle, carding through Yugi’s black hair and tousling the golden bangs. It was soothing. “I’m going with you.”

Yugi turned to face him properly. “What?”

Ryou’s mouth drew into a thin line. “Let me come with you.”

“Ryou…” The determination in his eyes surprised him. Yugi admitted that he was terrified. Having someone with him - and that someone being sweet, patient Ryou - would help bolster his courage. “Are you sure? Atem will… he’ll be angry,” he said, feeling the inadequacy of the word on his tongue. If this worked, Atem would be more than angry - he’d be _furious_. Nothing Yugi had experienced so far would be able to prepare him for the king’s anger. They’d be risking their lives.

Ryou stood straight, nodded. “I’m sure. What’s your plan?” Smiling, and feeling reassured already, Yugi told him his plan.

_x_

Yugi ran scenario after scenario through his mind as he walked, trying to think of something that would get Set to leave his rooms. He strode through the corridor, ignoring the scent of cured meat and fresh bread that curled up to his nostrils. Luck seemed to be with him tonight, though: Set’s quarters were empty.

Quickly, Yugi dropped his basket by the door and weaved through the antechamber. Scrolls of papyrus lay scattered across the table and an intricate scribal palette was open, ink still wet. _There_. Hidden in an alcove was a triangular block that gleamed, bright even in the shadows. Yugi grabbed it, feeling the smooth stone beneath his fingers. _It looks just like Atem’s_ , he marvelled. Except there were no shadows, no sense of silent menace. This one was empty. Kneeling, Yugi placed it at the bottom of the woven basket, arranging his selection of meat and fruit over it, hiding it from view.

Something glinted at the corner of his eye. Yugi glanced up, halfway to standing. It was Set’s collection of vials. Some of them were empty, some of them held thick, cloudy substances. One was pale, pearly blue. The lotus drug. Refusing to think about what he was doing, Yugi stood up and snatched the vial, dropping it into his basket with the pyramid.

He turned back through the corridors, focussing on putting one foot in front of the other. He couldn’t think too much about what he was doing. If he did, his legs would crumple and he’d sit on the floor, completely useless. _This is a stupid idea. A_ very _stupid idea_. Still, though, he kept walking.

He recognised the two guards. Yugi held his breath as he passed, only letting it out when he was in Atem’s rooms, out of sight. A tall carafe sat on the table, with two cups and a _senet_ board. Ryou must have acted quickly. Yugi placed the food next to it, a selection of fish, flatbread, olives and salty pork. He draped a cloth over the gleam of gold and hid the basket behind the chest. Nefret gave it an enquiring sniff but left it alone. The lotus drug vanished into the wine, blue fading completely into red. Each drop trembled as he shook it from the vial. The rest he hid under the bed, close to hand.

Yugi stood facing the door and linked his hands together behind his back. His skin was clammy. If he thought about what he was doing, the curl of nausea in his stomach would become full-blown panic. He could be walking straight to his death. _It won’t be that long until the next new year. We’re almost halfway through_ Akhet _already_. Time had gone so quickly and he’d come so far. The amethyst collar hung heavily around his neck. For a moment he felt a fleeting surge of regret for the things he was leaving behind. He’d grown so used to fresh fruit in the morning, rides out into the city. With a shock Yugi realised that he’d miss it. Then he remembered the fear he’d felt when those assassins had broken into the king’s rooms - in this room - and he knew he was doing the right thing.

Sopdet was clear in the night sky before Atem arrived. The king paused as he entered, crimson gaze sweeping over his rooms. They alighted on Yugi and the king straightened. There were deep furrows between the king’s brows. “ _Per-a’ah_ ,” said Yugi, taking one step forward. “Can I offer you _mesyt_?”

“Yugi.” A tendril of darkness lingered around the Pyramid but, as Yugi watched, it disappeared. “Very well.” Atem took a seat by the table, but the tension in his shoulders did not dissipate.

Yugi handed him a cup of wine, full to the brim and gleaming darkly. “Here, my lord.” The king took it and held it loosely in one hand. His far-reaching gaze was fixed on something that Yugi couldn’t see. Tentatively Yugi began to disrobe the man, removing each golden accessory with great care and keeping an eye fixed on the cup of wine. He hadn’t seen Atem all day. He must have spent the time interrogating the assassin beneath the Palace. Yugi flinched as he recalled the huge, terrifying monsters that lurked there. He searched his mind and finally alighted on some light, inconsequential gossip that he’d overheard the day before. As he spoke, Atem relaxed degree by degree, responding to his voice with an occasional, wordless murmur. It was as Yugi removed the man’s gold earrings that he took the first sip of wine. Yugi turned away, hands not quite steady. He lay the jewellery down, taking a deep breath and trying to still the trembling in his body. “Something to eat, my lord?” At Atem’s nod, he fed the king small morsels of dry fish and salted pork. Gradually the wine disappeared. Heart in his throat, Yugi reached for the carafe and filled Atem’s cup.

Atem tilted his head back against the chair, completely silent as Yugi talked. His eyes were half-lidded and unfocussed. Carefully, Yugi took the cup from his lax fingers. “ _Nsw_ ,” he whispered. Atem twitched but didn’t respond. “Come,” he murmured, urging him up. “Come to bed.” Slowly the man complied, moving with a languid grace that betrayed how deeply the wine was taking effect. Yugi pulled the Pyramid away, touching only the rope it hung on, and set it on a stool beside the bed. Yugi drew Atem to the bed, pushing lightly with his fingertips until the man was stretched out on the silk. He unlaced his sandals, listening to the steady drag of his breathing grow deeper. When he looked up, Atem’s eyes were closed, lashes dark above high, broad cheekbones.

A rush of breath escaped him. _It worked_. Then; _not yet_. Quickly, Yugi dug the false pyramid out of his basket. He removed the rope from the Sennen Item and looped it onto the replica. Then he picked up the real thing. It was warm. No shadows, but Yugi handled it gingerly. He laid it at the bottom of the basket and tucked the cloth around it.

Yugi hovered for a moment by the bed. Atem slumbered peacefully, neck cushioned by the headrest. Something caught at the base of Yugi’s throat, inexplicably painful. Yugi swallowed. He brushed the pad of his thumb over golden skin. Atem’s hair whispered over his fingers. Turning on his heel, Yugi walked away.

He paused at the room’s entrance. “The king is not to be disturbed,” he said to the guards. “He is resting.” They bowed. Yugi strode away, tense and prepared, at any moment, to hear the thunder of pursuing footsteps and the shout of his name. The basket weighed heavily on his arms. He walked through the palace, growing more and more anxious, but the Great House was silent. A part of Yugi felt disappointed.

Finally he stepped out under the stars. Ryou was there, a cloak wrapped around his shoulders. He carried two woven bags and a skin of water. The slave nodded to him, lips pressed tightly together. The hideous feeling in Yugi’s throat lessened slightly. Side by side, they strode to the stables on the other side of the court. A man was lazing outside the stalls, a soldier. He flicked his eyes at them. “Saddle Duat and Horus,” commanded Yugi, praying that his voice wouldn’t crack. “We need to ride out immediately.”

“Oh?” The guard spat on the floor and hiked his brows at them. “That so?”

Yugi narrowed his eyes. He tried to channel Set’s cold superiority. “Yes,” he said shortly and raised his left arm, displaying Atem’s leather band. “ _Nsw bity_ Akhenre has ordered us to travel south to Wetjeset-Hor,” he hissed. “Immediately and with utmost secrecy. I am the king’s personal Sandal-Bearer.” The man still looked unconvinced, so Yugi tilted his head and added, “I can fetch Jou, if you need further persuasion?”

The soldier blanched. “No, no. S’fine.” Grudgingly he got to his feet and vanished into the stables. Ryou shifted beside him, eyes on the courtyard. Yugi couldn’t think of anything to say that might calm him. Instead they stood there in silence until clopping hooves drew closer and their guard returned. He thrust the reins into Yugi’s hands and folded back onto the ground, staring at them. Yugi led the horses away, turning until the man was hidden by the walls of the Great House.

“Yugi, these are the king’s _favourite_ horses!” whispered Ryou. “If he finds out…”

The Pyramid was heavy and awkward in his arms. “Somehow I don’t think it’s _this_ theft that’s going to see our heads on the palace walls.” Ryou blanched and he could’ve kicked himself. “Sorry,” he murmured. He took a bag from Ryou and transferred the Item into it, casting the basket aside. Yugi mounted. He eyed the hazy imprint of _Ta-sekhet-ma’at_ , just visible against the twilight sky. “We’ll cross the river and ride straight through the tombs,” he said to Ryou.

“ _Through_ the tombs?” echoed the slave.

“No one will follow us,” explained Yugi., ignoring Ryou’s muttered, “Because it’s _blasphemy_.” He nudged his horse into a fast trot, feeling the distance grow behind him like a physical pain. He tightened his hands on the reins and refused to look back.


	35. Chapter 35

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, my lovelies. Brace yourselves.

  
Interlude

_The Priest and the Soldier_

_X_   


“Atem could still give up the Pyramid,” said Jou. They sat in his quarters, a table set with a simple _mesyt_ between them.

Set frowned at him. “I do not think that would be wise.” He shifted, settling deeper into luxurious silk. The scent of spiced lamb hung in the air, causing his mouth to water even though he had already eaten his fill. 

“Why not? It wouldn’t take long for my soldiers to take back,” he said. “If it means that we can subdue the _A’amu_ for good, isn’t it worth the risk?”

“Even a few days in their hands would be more than enough time to destroy Waset. Or worse. It is too dangerous.”

“But if they don’t know how to use it…”

“There is a sorcerer at large,” said Set. “We cannot take the chance.”

Jou ran a hand through his hair. “A sorcerer? Do you think it’s Yaqarum?”

“Ten days ago, I would have said no. Now… I am not so sure. It would explain why he wants the Pyramid so badly.” _But not Yugi._ Jou was unaware of the Prince’s second demand, the one that had ignited fire in Atem’s eyes. Set had no intention of changing that fact. Jou was hot-headed enough as it was, he could not know that the only thing between Yaqarum and his dearest friend was the king’s fickle favour.

“But you’ve been wrong before.” Set shot him a glare. “I mean - could you be mistaken in this? About the sorcerer?”

“I am rarely mistaken.” He recalled the bloody hieroglyphs carved into pale skin. Spells and curses, intertwined with symbols he did not recognise. “These murders… He is using ancient magic, trying to break something open.” That much he could decipher from the bodies. “Judging by those who have already been sacrificed, he is using their _ka_ to do it.” That was why he had taken the children, the innocents. For the purity of their _ka_.

“To do what?” asked Jou, frowning.

Set grit his teeth. “I don’t know.” A pulse of anger at the thought. It was his duty to protect Kemet from dangers such as these, but even his Sennen Rod could not help him peer through the shadows of Yaqarum’s thoughts. A sorcerer was masking them.

“We’ll find him.” Jou’s russet eyes were earnest. Set could not suppress a quick flash of apprehension. The soldier paused. “What is it?”

“There have been more omens,” he said reluctantly. “Bad ones.” Reports were coming from all over Kemet: crops turned foul; sudden, strange floods; shadows in strong sunlight. He had thought that Yugi would help, might be able to save Kemet, but still the signs were coming. “The gods are warning us.” _They are angry._

“I thought you had appeased them at _Ipet-iswt._ ”

The words cut. “As did I,” he muttered. “I thought Yugi’s presence here was a blessing. The signs agreed. Such a likeness to the king…” He lifted a shoulder, as if to ward off the guilt. “Perhaps I was mistaken.”

The twist of Jou’s lips was self-deprecating. “You are rarely mistaken,” he echoed.

“Mn.” Set stood. The evening was growing long. “I should return. I have much work to do before dawn.”

“Wait.” Fingers clasped his wrist. Set halted, staring down at Jou. His grip burnt. “Stay?”

Set blinked. “I…” Jou’s thumb brushed lightly over the pulse in his wrist. Shivers of heat raced up his arm. Jou’s eyes smouldered. He paused. An image blazed in his mind: Jou thrusting into the slave-girl, his golden limbs spread and muscles tensed. Head thrown back in ecstasy. Why did he want so badly to see that again?

“Forget the king for tonight,” whispered Jou. The man tugged gently and Set found himself bending, flowing towards that teasing, hypnotic touch. Jou’s fingers skated across the line of his jaw. Set struggled to breathe. “Stay with me.” Jou’s hand slip up to the back of his neck. Set released a long, shaky breath, and surrendered.

_x_

Set woke gradually, feathering up from some warm, dark place. There were arms around him, limbs flung haphazardly across his body. Instantly he stiffened. He had not woken beside someone else in more than a year.

Cinnamon and fresh grass. Jou. Set breathed in the scent. The soldier’s body was hot against him and light poured in from a small slit in the stone wall. _It is midday already_ , he thought with a shock. Quickly he wriggled out of Jou’s hold. The man sighed and rolled over, stretching out across the bed. Set found his _shenti_ in a pool on the ground. He wrapped it around his waist, cursing himself for not waking at dawn. He had arranged to meet Atem this morning, some time ago. Set winced as he moved. The aching tenderness between his thighs he could do nothing about, but he _could not_ stand before Atem bearing the dry, crusted symptoms of his own release.

Jou breathed deeply, golden hair curling at the nape of his neck. Set spared him a single glance, ignoring the jolt in his stomach, and strode from the room. He stopped briefly in his quarters, washing perfunctorily. Then he continued on to the King’s House.

The guards stepped aside with barely a glare, leaning away from him. Set squared his shoulders. The antechamber was silent save for the rustling breeze and the distant noise of Waset. Set ducked into the king’s bedchamber and paused. Atem was asleep, sprawled out on the bed. He frowned. The king never slept this late into the day. “ _Per-a’ah_?” he asked. No response. Set moved closer and raised his voice. Atem’s eyelashes quivered. Unease gripped him. Set took hold of Atem’s shoulder and shook the man. “ _Nsw_ ,” he snapped. “It is midday, you need to awaken. Majesty,” he repeated, until finally Atem groaned.

Thin slivers of crimson appeared and Atem blinked at him. “Set,” he said roughly.

“It is past noon,” said the high priest, drawing back.

The king sat up, running a hand through the wild locks of his hair. He pressed his feet to the ground and stood. “Of course, we were due to meet this morning.” He wavered, suddenly, and Set almost reached out to steady him before he caught himself. _He must have drunk heavily last night._

_But that is not like Atem._ “Yes, my lord. I was remiss in seeking you out,” he apologised.

The king nodded. He donned a clean _shendyt_ and crossed the room to don his Pyramid. “It is no matter. I have no urgent business, but we must-” He stopped, staring at the golden item cradled in his hands.

Set frowned. “ _Per-a’ah_?” The king turned the Pyramid over. “What is it?”

“There’s nothing.”

“Hmm?”

“I feel nothing,” answered the other man, concentrating on the pyramid. “It is silent. How is that possible?”

Set took a few steps to his side, unease blooming into alarm. “Silent? Are you sure?”

“How can it suddenly turn silent?” mused the king. “What sorcery could mask its presence so deeply that even _I_ -” He stopped and the high priest looked up. Atem was staring closely at a small line of hieroglyphs carved into one side of the pyramid.

“What?”

“There is a mistake.”

Set went cold. “A mistake?”

Grimly, the king snatched a granite statue of Bastet from an alcove in the wall and smashed it down on the pyramid’s edge. With a sharp crack, a section snapped off and shattered on the tiled floor. “Poor workmanship,” hissed Atem. The mutilated pyramid sat dully in his hand: the fake.

“That is not possible,” whispered Set. Snarling, Atem spun and hurled the pyramid across the room. It smashed against the wall and Set winced. “My lord-”

“They stole it!” said the king. “Someone crept in here while I slept and replaced it with that - that _monstrosity_. How did they take it from your chambers?”

It must have happened last night. Last _night_ , while he and Jou - “I-I am not sure,” he murmured, feeling the blood pool in his face.

With a crash a slender figurine went the same way as the pyramid. “There are guards outside my door at all times. Who could - who would dare-!”

“Did anyone enter your chambers before you slept?” interrupted Set, brows knitted. He knew there was a spy somewhere in the House, but he did not know who. Not yet. He had thought it was the other Sandal Bearer, Merwt’i - this might be the proof he needed. “Was anyone with you last night?” The king stilled. A handful of lotus flowers stood on the table beside him, wilting slowly in the heat. Atem picked one of the blossoms, the petals falling gently over his fingers. “Majesty?”

“There was.” The king’s voice was hoarse. “Yugi was here.”

“Yugi?” Set shook his head. “No, I mean-”

“I know what you mean.” Atem jerked his head and Set noticed the carafe and the half-empty platter of food. “He served me the _mesyt_ and I had one cup of wine. Drunk on _one cup_ , Set.”

“No,” said Set. _This is_ Yugi. He strode across the room, scanning the floor for something - anything - that would tell him who the true culprit was. “It is not Yugi.”

“Are you sure?” The king’s voice was heavy.

“I will not believe this of Yugi,” said Set. “You know him, perhaps better than any of us.” Atem flinched but Set pressed on. “You know that he couldn’t do this. Surely your heart tells you that, if nothing else?”

“My heart tells me many things,” said Atem. “But as long as I am king, I cannot trust it.”

“ _Per-a’ah_ …” There was nothing he could say. “It can’t be Yugi.”

The king dragged a hand through his hair. His fingers were shaking. _The drug_ , thought Set. It had to be the drug. “He kept speaking about Yaqarum,” said Atem.

“What?”

“Yugi. He asked about the prince, about the _A‘amu_. Again and again.” Atem clenched his hand. When he released it, his fingers were steady. “I thought he was concerned about a war, about _me_ -” His voice broke. Set, uncomfortable, glanced away. Light glinted at him from underneath the bed. Quickly he knelt down. Glass. Set drew it out and held it up to the light. The bottom dropped out of his stomach. “Set? What is it?”

“It-” He cleared his throat, straightened, and held the vial in both hands. Half empty. “It is a narcotic concoction made from the blue lotus. A drug.” His fingers tightened on the vial. _One cup would have been more than enough._ “I was brewing it for Yaqarum, in case-” He swallowed. “Only two people knew it was in my chambers.”

“Who?”

“Mahaad,” said Set.

“Mahaad is my most trusted servant,” replied Atem instantly. “Who else?”

For a moment Set couldn’t push the second name past the block in his throat. “Mahaad and - and Yugi.”

Atem bared his teeth savagely. He crushed the lotus blossom in his hand.

_x_


	36. Chapter 36

__

The King and the Scribe

x

As the sky lightened, Yugi began to make out hollows in the mountainside that might have been gateways to a tomb. Each shadow prickled with hidden danger. Duat stumbled over a loose rock and the sound cracked through the valley like thunder. Beside him, Ryou flinched.

Yugi managed a weak smile, but it died away quickly. Chills crawled down his spine. The stone mountains rose up around them, looming with silent menace. They were trespassing here. Hunching his shoulders, Yugi tried to think about something else, steering his mind away from the dead kings that slumbered beneath him. Instantly he thought of Atem, lounging on the granite throne with eyes of fire.

Atem was in Waset. Atem wasn’t his - had never been his. And after this, he never would be. Yugi should forget him. _Needed_ to forget him.

“Yugi,” whispered Ryou. Yugi snapped upright. The scribe pulled on the reins, drawing his horse to a halt.

“What?” Then his eyes adjusted to the gloom ahead of them. Dead end. Yugi twisted in the saddle, glancing back the way they had come. The narrow stone path meandered back through the valley, but their way forward was blocked by a root of the hills. “Damn,” he muttered.

“Now what?”

Yugi bit his lip. “We have to get to the other side of these hills.” This couldn’t be it. _There has to be a way through._ He scanned the dark crags carefully. There. Movement. “Did you see that?”

“What?”

It was a ram, horns curled around its ears and eyes mere shadows in its slender face. “There,” he said, gesturing with his chin, unwilling to spook the animal. “The ram.”

“What ram? I don’t see anything, Yugi.”

The ram was Amun’s symbol. _Perhaps it’s a sign._ As he watched, the ram leapt up onto an outcropping of rock and disappeared. “Come on.” He urged his horse forward. Duat clambered up the slope, struggling where the ram had been sure-footed. Eagerly Yugi pressed on. There was a gap between the hills, a small opening in the rock. His horse wriggled through the space and Yugi winced as the stone scraped over his bare calves. They emerged on a sloping dune of rock. Undulating waves of sand rose up around them, obscuring their vision. A flair of movement and the ram vanished over the top of the nearest dune. Instantly Yugi turned to follow it. Duat scrambled up the sand. When she reached the top, Yugi reined her in. Dawn was breaking on their right, casting azure fingers across the sky. Light fell on a small hollow between the dunes; lush palm fronds and green trees. Duat’s ears flickered and she snorted. Water as well, then. “That has to be it,” he said as Ryou caught up to him. “Where the rebels are camped.”

Ryou squinted, slightly out of breath. “It’s not that far from the river. Why would they camp so close to the king?”

Yugi shivered. “They’ve been watching us.”

__

x

The scent of water hung, heavy, on the air. Both horses dipped their noses into the small lake and drank deeply. Yugi sat in the reeds, kneading at the ache in his thighs. It was no wonder the army used chariots; riding _hurt_. Ryou knelt at the lake’s edge, replenishing their water supplies. After a few moments, Yugi stood and stretched. Somewhere out here were the _A’amu_ warriors who had sent assassins after the king. He just had to find them. Then…

 _Then what?_ his mind echoed. _What exactly are you going to do once you_ do _find them?_ Scowling, Yugi stepped over to Duat, running a hand over her neck. The only thing he had been thinking about was those assassins, and making sure that they stayed as far away from Atem as possible. Now he had no idea what to do next.

Yugi dug through Ryou’s saddle bag and found the pyramid. He hung it around his neck, feeling the gold press against his abdomen. It was heavy, much more so than he’d expected. Yugi cupped it in his hands. Energy thrummed through his fingers. _Does Atem feel this, when he wears it?_ This is what Yaqarum wanted. This power.

A shout rang through the air. Instinctively Yugi ducked. The horses spooked, darting away from the water. He spun around. Ryou had frozen, crouched down among the reeds. Another cry - someone in pain. Gritting his teeth, Yugi turned towards the sound. Someone was in trouble; hurt. He crept through the dense foliage at the water’s edge. Gradually the sound of the wind melded into voices that grew clearer as he moved.

“-u think he’s going to be pleased. He’s a thief.” For a startled moment, Yugi thought they’d seen him. “A tomb robber’s no use to us. Kill him and be done with it.”

“I don’t know, Sahb. What if the rest of his gang come back?” _Sahb_ , thought Yugi. The name was familiar.

“Look at him.” The sound of flesh hitting flesh and a slurred oath. “He’s been here for days. They ain’t coming back.” Frowning, Yugi tried to get closer. He couldn’t see - maybe these people could help him.

“He’s already dead. Let’s just leave him here.”

“Oi.” Shocked, Yugi spun around. Above him stood a tall man with braided hair. He grabbed Yugi’s arm and hauled the scribe to his feet. “Here’s another one!” he yelled.

“Hey - release me!” demanded Yugi, twisting in his hold. Unmoved, the man dragged him out of the reeds and tossed him to the ground. A flurry of pale hair and Ryou was thrown down beside him. The slave looked shaken.

Three men stood there, faces hard. “What’s this?” asked one, lip curling. Yugi realised where he’d heard the name Sahb and he cursed. This could ruin everything.

“Spies. Caught them eavesdropping.”

“Really?” The man stared at Yugi, dark eyes narrowed. This time Yugi couldn’t see the odd shadows that had curled around him in Nekhen, but still he tensed. _Is he the sorcerer?_ “So it’s a coincidence, is it, that the king’s personal servant is here?” Yugi closed his eyes. _Amun…_

“What?”

“Personal-”

“He was in Nekhen when we attacked the fort.” A tug at his hair, and Yugi opened his eyes to see the rebel examining his blond locks.

“So the king knows?”

Snarling, Sahb let him go. “Get the horses ready. We need to get out of here, back to camp. Where’s my sword?”

Yugi glanced away. Ryou knelt some distance away, cradling his ribs. Beside him, just visible among the ferns, was a lean, tanned body that Yugi hadn’t noticed before. Ryou was slowly inching his way closer. The man was motionless, limbs curled around himself and white hair tangled.

Yugi’s mind sped. They had water here and the river wasn’t far. They would be all right. Yugi bit his lip. To impersonate the king meant death - he’d learnt that the hard way. To do so after Atem’s kindness and benevolence - nausea rippled in his stomach. _But surely,_ Yugi reasoned. _This is_ why _I was spared? To be the king’s other self._ Besides, he had stolen the king’s most prized possession. Even if he survived the rebels, he would be killed when he returned. If he could spare _more_ lives…

He lifted his head. “I demand to see Yaqarum.” The sound of his voice cut clearly through the band’s argument and they turned.

Sahb raised an eyebrow. “What?”

Yugi got to his feet. “You heard me,” he said coolly. “I am _nsw bity_ Akhenre, son of Ra Atem, _Meri-en-Kheprer, Sekhentuma’at, Djeru-kheftiw-ef._ ” He did not dare look at Ryou. “And I demand to be taken before Yaqarum.”

Sahb strode towards him. “I saw you at Nekhen, peasant. You’re no king.”

“A ruse,” he said, hoping the fast beating of his pulse would not give him away. “To protect against assassins. _I_ am the true king.”

“That’s ridiculous,” replied the man, but there was doubt in his expression.

“Can you afford to be sure?” replied Yugi, tilting his head and feeling like a very poor imitation of a god. _Please, Amun, Isis - help me._

A scowl darkened the man’s expression. “Fine.” He seized Yugi and jerked him forward. Stumbling, the scribe tried to keep up as he was pulled along. “Take him in front of you.”

The soldier shoved Yugi up onto his horse. Flailing, Yugi struggled to stay on. “And the others?”

“They’re not important. Leave them to starve.” Yugi turned to look behind him as the rebels mounted and prepared to leave. Ryou was bent over the stranger’s body, but his gaze followed Yugi, distressed and full of fear.

__

x

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coming next chapter… Ryou is stranded at the oasis with the thief who haunted his nights - the thief who doesn't seem to remember him.
> 
> (I.e. The moment you’ve been waiting for: TKB!)


	37. Chapter 37

  
Interlude

_The Thief and the Slave_

_X_   


Cool water trickled onto his face. A drop rolled over the bridge of his nose, tickling his eyelashes. "Wake up, idiot, or you'll kill us both." Ryou opened his eyes. “Finally.”

His head ached. Ryou levered himself up onto his elbows. “What - what happened?” he said, hoarsely.

The other man snorted. His arm collapsed onto the reeds. The tips of his fingers were wet. “It seems you decided to vacate the world of the living.” Ryou touched the back of his head gingerly. There was a bump under his hair, sore and tender. Yugi had been taken by those rebels, disguised as the king. He had persuaded them to leave Ryou here, injured, but alive. The slave pressed the heel of his hand against his closed eye. _They’ll kill him if they find out who he is._ “Oi.” He looked up. The boy glared at him, pale hair tangled and falling into his eyes. _Thief king._ Ryou’s stomach tensed and he was in the courtyard, back pressed against the wall and breathing in the scent of the wind. “We have to get moving.”

“What?” He shook the memory off. The thief obviously didn’t remember him; it would probably be safer to remain that way - forgotten.

“We need to move. The king will be here at any moment.”

“The king?” Ryou had risen to his knees, but at that he paused. _Yugi_. “But the king _was_ here…”

“Don’t think I’m fooled by that brat,” said the Thief King. “I’m well aware of the king’s true appearance.” Ryou flushed. “Atem will be coming after the pyramid and he’ll kill you for helping that brat steal it.” The man shut his eyes, brows furrowed. “Though I hope the _A’amu_ do me a favour and kill the man,” he added under his breath.

He _had_ helped Yugi escape. The king wasn’t likely to show mercy. “What am I going to do?” he whispered.

“Cover your tracks.”

“What?”

Amethyst eyes slid open on a glare. “You came on horseback, didn’t you?” Bemused, Ryou nodded. “Send them back east. The prints will throw off your pursuers.” _Pursuers_. Ryou swallowed and got to his feet. The thief lapsed back into silence. Blood seeped from a cut on his brow and faint red marks were blooming over his torso. They would bruise before the sun reached its zenith.

Ryou hurried back through the reeds. Duat and Horus had not wandered far. Ryou pointed them in the direction of Waset and turned them loose with a slap to their flanks. Whinnying, the horses thudded away, leaving clear imprints in the sand. Warm air tightened around him. The only way to return now would be to walk. He retraced his steps. The rebels’ tracks were obvious, so Ryou left them. He smoothed over his own footsteps, scuffing them into the sand.

The thief had fallen asleep. Ryou stood over him, hugging himself. The Aten was already high, beating down on his shoulders. They could not stay out here, under the full force of its light. Bending, Ryou slipped his hands under the man’s shoulders and hauled him upright. The thief grunted. “-re you doing?”

“Quiet,” said Ryou, throwing the man’s arm over his own, paler shoulders. He was heavy. Ryou took an unsteady step forward, into the large pool of water at the centre of the oasis.

Water rippled around their calves. Ryou half-led, half-carried the thief through the shallows. Thin, slender reeds trailed over the surface. Ryou stumbled, feet slipping on the cool mud under his feet. A bird squawked and flapped up out of the reeds. Ryou caught his balance before he toppled over. He heard a muttered curse. “Sorry,” breathed Ryou. There was a small cluster of _nehet_ trees on the other side of the lake that whispered in the breeze. He waded through the water towards them.

Beneath the trees grew thick ferns and grass, shaded by the nehet. Ryou stumbled out of the water and ducked under a low-hanging branch. Here, they were hidden by the reeds on the bank and the waving fronds of the plants around them. He let go of the other man and the thief collapsed like so much spilled flour. Ryou knelt beside him. Blood trickled over the man’s temple and dripped onto the lush foliage. He tore a strip of linen from his _shenti_ and pressed it gently over the cut.

A hand seized his own. Pale eyes glared at him and Ryou winced as the grip tightened. “You’re pathetic,” spat the thief and thrust him away. “Get out of my sight.”

Ryou clenched his jaw. _Even tame animals lash out when they’re hurt_ , he reminded himself. “Don’t be foolish. You’re bleeding,” he said. Again he pressed the cloth to the thief’s wound. The man winced but said nothing. Ryou wrapped it around his head, careful not to put too much pressure on the cut. Another grumble as he probed the man’s torso, but no more verbal protests. _Nothing broken_. Nothing seemed to be, at least. Despite its ugly colours, the man’s skin was smooth, stretched tight over hard muscle. Heat flushed through his body. Ryou yanked his hands away. He raised his eyes guiltily, but the thief was unconscious again. Sighing, Ryou curled up at his side. The pounding in his head had grown faint, eclipsed by the rustling reeds and the occasional call of a bird. He closed his eyes, drifting.

When he next opened them, the sky had darkened to a deep violet. A horse whinnied. Ryou tensed so quickly his muscles almost snapped. Voices. He tilted his head, peering through strands of silvery hair. Something moved on the flat sand across the pool. The sounds melded into a single, muffled voice. _The king_. He _had_ come. Ryou bit his lip. They were on the other side of the oasis, but it was a small one. If he shouted, they would hear him. _I could tell them the truth_ , he thought. _Try and help them find Yugi. Maybe they can save him._ He raised his head. The body of the thief lay sprawled out beside him, dark against his own. He was a thief. They would not hesitate to kill him. Ryou ducked down. He kept his gaze fixed on those hazy movements, breathing in shallow pants.

A long, interminable time later, the voices died away. Hooves thudded into the sand and Ryou heard leather on flesh. Gradually even those sounds receded, dying away into the night. He released a long breath. Ryou sat up, pushing a hand through his tousled hair. _They must have gone straight after Yugi._ Tiny stars winked into existence in the twilight sky. Ryou muttered a quick, thankful prayer and twisted around. The thief was watching him.

Unnerved, Ryou tried to ignore the look. He pressed his hand against the man's face. Cool. No fever. His throat was parched, dry as a bone. "Can you move?"

"Of course I can move," snapped the thief, but when he sat up he flinched.

"Can you get to the lake?" Ryou asked and was rewarded with a sharp glare. Shaking his head, Ryou turned his back on the man and slid down to the pool’s edge. He dipped his hands into the water and drank deeply, relishing the cool relief that flowed through his chest. His reflection rippled. An almost identical image flickered over the water as the thief drank. Ryou quenched his own thirst and then rested his elbows on his knees. _We have no way of getting back to Waset. Our horses are gone and we're surrounded by desert. Now what do I do?_

"Walk."

Ryou jumped. He stared at the other man. "What?" Then he realised that he'd spoken the last out loud. "Walk back to the City? That's impossible!"

The thief shrugged. "If you say so."

"What about you? You can't walk that far with those injuries."

"I don't need to." He flopped back onto the reeds, in the shade. "I have a cache near here."

"Near here?" The only thing near this oasis was _Ta-sekhet-ma'at_. "You _are_ the tomb robber!"

The man’s eyes opened to narrow slits. "And? Better to be alive and robbing tombs than dead by the side of the river."

That made Ryou pause. Was it so different from some of the things he had once done, in the name of survival? “So you have enough in _Ta-sekhet-ma'at_ to survive?” he said instead. _At least one of us will live._

“For a tenday, at least. Until the heat dies down,” said the thief. After a moment, he closed his eyes. “But,” he added. “As you so dutifully pointed out, little lamb, I cannot walk there alone.”

Ryou hid a smile, though he was less successful at tamping down the thrill within him. He was intelligent enough to recognise an invitation when he heard one. Maybe he’d see Yugi again. Maybe not. But the scribe had the favour of Amun himself. He’d survive. “Then it seems we’re stuck together for a little longer,” he murmured, and wondered if the small tick at the corner of the thief’s mouth was, in fact, a grin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we say farewell to TKB and Ryou... :(


	38. Chapter 38

_The King and the Scribe_

_x_

The rebel camp was on a plateau hidden behind a small hill. As Sahb and the rebels approached, a number of soldiers - _A’amu_ and Sand-dwellers, judging by their clothes - turned to stare at him. Yugi gripped the horse’s mane, concentrating on the wiry hair between his fingers. There were a number of small tents pitched on one side of the plateau. On the other stood a small garrison of soldiers. Between them, on the far side of the plateau was a large, elaborate tent. Outside it stood a man in a patterned _shenti_. Yaqarum. Another few minutes and Yugi’s deception would be broken.

People drew back as they cut through the camp, eyes drawn to his crown of hair and the pyramid hanging from his neck. Yugi kept his eyes on the prince, who turned as they drew level with the tent. His gaze fell on Yugi and his mouth parted. “ _You_.”

“My prince,” said Sahb, dismounting. “We found this boy at the oasis. He claims to be the king.” _He_ is _one of them. I should have known._ The rider behind him prodded Yugi and the scribe swung his leg over the horse and slid to the ground. He faced Yaqarum, squaring his shoulders.

The prince stared at him. His eyes darted down to the golden pyramid and widened. “What are you doing here? How do you have that?” Then his voice tightened. “Where is the king?”

“He doesn’t know I’m here,” said Yugi, thinking quickly. He had to kill time. The longer he could keep the rebels here, inactive, the longer Jou had to hunt them down. “I brought you the pyramid.” Yugi tugged it off and held it out. A peace offering.

Greedily Yaqarum reached for it, curling his fingers around the stone and holding it close to his chest. As it left his hands, Yugi saw a thin tendril reach back for him. He knew, suddenly, that it was not pleased. “The Sennen Pyramid,” muttered the prince. “Fetch the sorcerer!” he snapped and Sahb jerked, hastening away. “Yugi. You have done well,” he said, smiling.

Yugi felt sick. _This is necessary_ , he reminded himself. “Thank you,” he replied, demurely.

“Yaqarum, I need another soul. This one-”

He knew that voice. Yugi turned. Tall, eyes as black as he remembered. “Mesech?” he said. “Governor?”

A hiss of breath passed through the man’s teeth. “Sandal-Bearer.”

“He brought me the pyramid,” interrupted Yaqarum, clutching it tightly.

“Fool,” muttered the nomarch. He held out an imperious hand. “It is probably a fake. Let me see it.” Grudgingly, Yaqarum handed it over. Yugi held his breath as the man examined it. If this didn’t work, if somehow the man didn’t believe him… Finally the nomarch straightened. He stared at Yugi thoughtfully. “It is real.”

Yaqarum crowed. He went to snatch it back but Mesech raised it out of his reach. “Sorcerer,” he said. “ _I_ lead these men. Give me the pyramid.”

“Why? When you do not know how to use it?” The man’s gaze slid over to Yugi. “I wanted Akhenre, but… I suppose this will have to do. At least his image is almost the same.”

The _A’amu_ prince darted a glance at Yugi. “No. I want him. You promised him to me, sorcerer.” Yugi took half a step back and ran into a solid length of body. He swallowed.

“When we take Kemet, you can have all the boys you want,” snapped Mesech, mouth twisting. He raised one hand level to the pyramid, fingers curled towards it. A shadow flit between them, dark and rancid green. A sound escaped Yugi before he could muffle it. “Then it _is_ true…” He looked up. The sorcerer was watching him.

Suddenly his hand flashed out and he dragged Yugi closer. “Hey!” Panic surged in his stomach. “L-let go of me!”

“Look at me.” The man tugged on his hair, yanking his head up. Wincing at the pain, Yugi’s eyes watered. “ _Look_ at me.” Blinking rapidly, Yugi tried to focus. The man’s dark eyes swam in his vision. Pressure grew at the back of his mind, heavy and painful. There was a curious light in their depths, a point of green like the depths of the river. It flooded through his eyes and poured down his face like tears. Yugi flinched. A laugh. “Just as I suspected. A Seer.” _A what?_

Yaqarum appeared in the corner of Yugi’s vision, brows furrowed. “What? You are sure?”

“I am. He has the talent.” Narrow lips pursed and the sorcerer slid his hand around the back of Yugi’s neck. “Not much of it, but still. He might do after all. Ready your soldiers, I will begin at nightfall.” This was an aside to Yaqarum. The prince smiled, an edge of cruelty to the expression that triggered a flash of fear. Mesech hung the pyramid around his own neck. “Bring him to me then. Bring him _pure_ , Yaqarum,” Mesech added. “I need him untouched.”

The prince scowled. “Then I want him afterwards.” He jerked Yugi into his arms and sank his teeth into the scribe’s collarbone. Yugi cried out at the sharp stab of pain. Yaqarum drew back, a drop of blood on his lips. “Whatever’s _left_ of him.”

“Agreed.”

Yugi fought. “Wait, what are you going - what do you _mean_ -?” The man behind him grabbed him roughly and towed him away. He twisted and turned in the man’s hold, fighting with teeth and blunt nails. He wrung a grunt out of the solider, but no more. The folds of a tent passed over his head and the light of the Aten dimmed. Rope bit into his wrists. His shoulders were wrenched back and Yugi grunted. The stranger forced him to his knees beside a wooden pole. He was lashed to it, the wood a painful force against his spine.

“Keep quiet,” muttered the guard. “Or I’ll cut out your tongue.”

Eyes wide, Yugi shut his mouth with a snap. The soldier left him, tent flapping back into place and plunging his prison into semi-darkness. Yugi let his head drop. Tears beaded on his lashes. A black, yawning pit had opened in his stomach, eating at his heart. _Atem_ … He had done it. They were going to take him in Atem’s place. The relief he felt eased a little of that hideous despair. Swallowing, Yugi leant his head back against the wooden pole and began to pray.

__

x

The tent opened and a shaft of grey light speared through the darkness. Yugi blinked his eyes, crusted with sand and sleep. “Who’s there?” he croaked. A soldier strode through the tent without responding. He leant down and cut Yugi’s bonds. For one wild, giddy moment, Yugi thought he was free.

Hands seized his arm and tugged him up. Stumbling, Yugi was pushed out of the tent. Night had fallen and the Aten was disappearing quickly over the horizon. The camp was undisturbed. Jou had not found them in time.

The soldier’s grip tightened. He hauled Yugi across the cool desert sand and into a plain shelter supported by thin wooden beams. The soldier shoved him and he fell forward onto his hands and knees. “Please-” Then he saw what was inside the tent and his whole body stilled.

At the centre was a low wooden table, stained with long crimson streaks and worn smooth. Leather straps had been hooked into the wood at intervals along the table. At its side was another, smaller table and on that lay slender metal tools. Yugi recognised them from images he’d seen, in the hands of Anubis and the _sem_ priests. From his dreams. Embalming tools. He choked on fear.

“Come, Yugi,” whispered the sorcerer, emerging from the shadows. Yugi fought like a wildcat, lashing out and snapping his teeth. Mesech held him still with fierce, wiry strength. One of his kicks impacted and the man grunted. He drove Yugi forward, fingers bruising into his arms, and forced him down onto the table. Tight leather pressed down over his hips, holding him there. The wood came away beneath Yugi’s fingernails as he clawed at it. Horror and desperate fear flooded through his limbs, stealing their strength away. He tried to speak and his throat closed on the words. “Be still,” muttered the sorcerer, holding his legs down with wiry strength. Leather tightened around his calf. They were straps.

“Wait!” Yugi twisted, breath rattling in his chest. The soldier had disappeared. “Please, you don’t have to do this.” Mesech ignored him. “You have the whole of Waset - you could rule anywhere-”

The man snorted. “You think I care for such politics? It is Yaqarum who wants Kemet.”

Yugi drew in a deep breath. _Think, you have to think._ “What do you want, then?” Another leather strap around his thigh. His body was shaking. “I - I know Atem, I could help you! But you have to tell me what you want!”

“Want?” Mesech laughed. “There is nothing I want that you can give me. The pyramid will bring me the other Sennen Items. With them, I will submerge Kemet in darkness.”

_He’s insane._ “Please,” said Yugi, edging his fingers towards the second table. Talking was not working. Perhaps if he could reach a weapon… “In the name of Amun-”

The sorcerer slapped him. “Silence. The righteous will rise and bathe in the blood of the Damned.”

Face stinging, Yugi stared at him. “What?”

“By carving my spells into your soul, I can unleash _Izfet_ and watch true chaos judge the world.” Mesech placed both of his hands on Yugi’s face. “I needed the pyramid and the king’s soul to break open the shadow realm. Innocence would not work, no matter how young I took the _ka_.” Yugi tasted bile. It was this monster who was responsible for the deaths of so many. “But you…” A cold, crocodile smile. “You will do quite nicely.”

“Atem will kill you,” whispered Yugi. The man’s breath smelt sickly sweet, like stale fruit.

The man released him, laughing. “The king’s fate is already written; doomed to die by his own hand, by the very things created to protect him.”

“That’s not true,” protested Yugi.

“The process has already been set in motion.” A flash of wicked glee. “Your presence here will cause events to unfold that will climax in the king’s death.”

“No. I don’t believe you,” said Yugi, but he couldn’t deny the dizzy sense of foreboding that told him it was true. _No._ He could not watch Atem die.

A warbling cry suddenly resounded through the air, followed by another and then another until they seemed to be surrounded by birds. Mesech reared back, brows drawn down in a furious glare. “What is that?!”

Yugi lunged across the table. He grabbed a long sharp blade from the heap of crusted embalming tools and sliced it through the air. The sorcerer leapt back, out of reach. Quickly Yugi undid the restraints, cutting through some that were too stiff to loosen . He scrambled off the table. A cry of outrage behind him but Yugi didn’t dare turn around. He stumbled out of the tent. The camp was in chaos, ringing with the sound of birdcalls.

“The army!” Scrabbling over the dunes came a scout. He hurtled towards the rebels. His next words sent a ripple through the _A’amu_. “The _king_ leads them!”

Snarling, Mesech erupted from the shelter and backhanded Yugi across the face. The sharp crack of pain sent Yugi to the ground. “Worthless dog,” spat the sorcerer. “We’ll see how much the king cares when you are gutted and bleeding at his feet!”

“Arrows!” someone screamed. Yugi crawled away, taking shelter behind a ridge of stone and tucking his feet underneath him even as a rain of arrows pelted down from the sky and thudded into the ground where he’d been. The sorcerer scowled, glaring at Yugi in his shelter. An arrow slammed into the ground and the man spun around, disappearing into the tent.

Screams and shouts echoed through the camp. Underneath it came a sound like thunder, building until Yugi recognised it - hooves and the rumble of wheels. Chariots. Panting, he ducked his head and tightened his hands around his knees, praying over and over again for safety. The sound of slaughter echoed in his mind.

A shout rang out: Yaqarum. He had to be fighting the soldiers. _But,_ thought Yugi, _if the soldiers are here, then Atem must be here, too. Here, and surrounded by enemies!_

Yugi crawled out of his hole, fighting nausea at the sight of the golden sand, stained crimson. Bodies of soldiers lay deathly still, _A’amu_ beside Sand-dwellers beside Kemet’s own.

A clash of metal. Cubits away, across the sand, stood Yaqarum, snarling and wielding his sword. Another figure wove around him. Heart in his mouth, Yugi crept closer. He spotted the curved blue crown and the jagged blond bangs. His heart jumped up and then sank to the pit of his stomach. _Atem. Atem had come for him._

Soldiers fought at the edge of his vision, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away. The two men tangled together, their blades streaks of silver in the light. Yugi couldn’t tell who was winning. _Amun_ , he thought, deliriously, _save him!_

On an outcropping of rock behind Atem, an _A’amu_ warrior struggled to his feet. He fitted an arrow to his bow and took aim.

At Atem.

_No._ Yugi raced towards them. Atem stepped back. Yaqarum was on his knees, bleeding from a dozen places and clearly beaten. The king raised his sword for the killing stroke. On the ledge, the _A’amu_ tensed, eyes narrowing.

With a shout, Yugi threw himself at Atem. They hit the ground in a flash of limbs. Atem grunted and snarled a curse. He didn’t hear it.

An arrow thudded into the ground where Atem had been standing. “Thank the gods,” Yugi muttered, going limp. Atem was safe.

“Yugi?” Atem grabbed him, turned his head and examined him. “Are you all right? Are you hurt?”

“I’m all right,” said Yugi. His heart was still hammering, but joy was brimming up to eclipse everything else. “I’m all right.”

“You stopped me,” said Atem. “Why did you-?” His gaze travelled past Yugi to Yaqarum. The light in his eyes went out. “You saved him,” said the king, flatly.

“What?” Yugi’s elation died away. “No, Atem, I didn’t save _him_ -”

Atem pushed him away and surged to his feet. “Enough,” he hissed. “I have had enough.”

Yaqarum’s eyes widened. “Wait, my lord-”

Atem picked up his sword. In one stroke, he severed the prince’s head from his shoulders. Yugi winced. The man’s head rolled across the floor. His body wavered, for a second, then thudded to the ground. More blood oozed onto the golden sand.

Dead. Yugi pressed his hands over his mouth and spared the prince a quick, shallow prayer. He couldn’t pretend he could offer more than that.

“ _Per-a’a_.” A soldier bowed to Atem. “There is no more to be done. The rebels are dead, or fleeing. We have your chariot ready.”

“Good.” Yugi risked a glance. Atem’s face was chiselled granite. This was not the living Horus, nor the young man that Yugi sometimes glimpsed behind the façade. This was the king.

And the king was angry.


	39. Chapter 39

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: rough sex and dubious consent. LIKE REALLY. Put the kids to bed for this one.

The rocks dug into his knees, but the feeling barely registered against the confused waves of joy and despair drowning him. “A-Atem.” A glance from cold crimson eyes and Yugi fell silent. He worried at his lower lip, digging his teeth into the soft flesh.

The sound of metal. “This one is from Kemet, _per-a’a_. What shall I do with him?” 

After a moment, Atem spoke. The deep sound of his voice sent a resulting shiver through Yugi. “Take him back to the camp. He will be returned to the High Priest for service.”

_To Set?_ Yugi bit his lip almost hard enough to bleed, but he couldn’t stop the quick dart of his eyes up to Atem. The king wasn’t looking at him. His throat tightened. If he could just _explain…_

“Allow me to beat the insolence from his eyes,” said one of the soldiers.

“No,” snapped Atem. “Dismissal from my service is punishment is enough.”

“He is a traitor, my lord.” _Traitor?_ thought Yugi with shock. “His head should be speared on the walls of your House.”

“I will ensure that he is punished,” replied Atem, crimson eyes glittering.

“No,” said Yugi. “I didn’t - I never meant-”

“Silence.” The king’s voice dropped into the air with the weight of a stone. “You are _nothing_.” Curling in around the sharp pain in his chest, Yugi didn’t fight the hands that yanked him upright.

“Nsw. We have recovered the Pyramid.” _The pyramid._ No wonder Atem had come so swiftly.

“Bring it to me.”

Atem made a sharp gesture and Yugi was dragged away. He spotted Jou dismounting from another chariot. “Jou-” he cried. The general met his eyes but the grip on Yugi’s arms tightened and Jou glanced away. His last hope gone, Yugi sagged in the soldier’s arms.

He was led away from the battlefield and to a smaller chariot at the crest of the plateau. The soldier with him didn’t let him go, but Yugi only had enough energy to cling to the edge of the chariot as they turned and moved off through the sand. He was being sent back to Waset in disgrace, to become the high priest’s servant.

Atem no longer wanted him.

_I have to explain,_ thought Yugi. _I never meant - I’m not a_ traitor. He watched the horizon grow closer. A small, temporary camp had been created in the shelter of a hill; a handful of tents and more soldiers. _I only wanted to help._

The soldier pushed him inside one of the tents. On one side of the tent was a pile of throws and cushions. Yugi sat on an ebony stool beside it, alone, and waited. Atem wasn’t going to kill him. Yugi felt a surge of relief and gratitude followed quickly by apprehension. _But I’m going to be punished._ A traitor deserved death - what was Atem going to do that could come close to execution? Yugi pressed his hands together between his knees, knuckles white.

The day wore on. From outside, Yugi only heard the light rustle of the wind and the occasional voice. These soldiers had been trained to move silently and they barely made a sound. It was as if Yugi was alone in the desert. The loneliness building in him was so intense that he could almost believe it to be true.

At last the reed matt at the entrance was swept aside and Atem strode into the tent. It had been a night and a day since Yugi had last seen him, but, by the sudden yearning that shot through his body, it seemed like a lifetime. At dawn, Yugi had been fully prepared never to see him again. He stood, reaching out for Atem.

He drew back quickly at the look he received. “Ate - _per-a’ah_. Please-”

“You will be escorted back to Waset,” interrupted the king. Atem was watching him, eyes half-lidded. The Pyramid was around his neck. “You are no longer my Sandal-Bearer.”

Yugi flinched. “I - I understand, my lord,” he whispered. “But my slave - Ryou-”

“Is to be executed on sight,” retorted Atem.

Stung, Yugi stood for a moment before he replied, “Why? On what charge?”

“Treachery. He has disappeared with the tomb robber known as the Thief King. Now they are both missing.”

“No,” whispered Yugi, horrified. He’d led Ryou straight into danger and then left him to the mercy of a thief. He closed his eyes. _I’m so sorry, Ryou_. “How did you find m - us?”

“Jou tracked you to the oasis. The rebels were not difficult to find from there.”

Yugi nodded. He opened his eyes, staring at the woven mat that covered the sand. Atem was sending him away. He could tolerate no more _senet_ games, no more of their easy conversation, but he couldn’t bear that Atem might think him a traitor. “Please, A - _per-a’ah_ ,” he corrected again, unsure if he was yet at liberty to use the king’s personal name. “Let - let me explain-”

“By Amun, no!” snapped the king. “At least spare me that!”

Yugi took a step forward, raising his hand. “But-”

“Whore,” spat Atem. The word cut and Yugi cringed. “Did you run straight to Yaqarum’s arms? How many have seen this face?”

“What are you talking about?”

Atem’s gaze dropped to his chest. “I remember every one of the marks I gave you,” he said, voice level. “And _that_ is _not mine_.”

Yugi’s eyes widened. Yaqarum had bitten him. Instinctively his hand rose to cover the mark and Atem’s lips curled. “It’s not what it seems.”

“What did Yaqarum promise you?” Crimson eyes met his once more. “My throne? My head?” For a split second the mask cracked. “Did you hate me so very much?”

“No!” cried Yugi. “Of course not, how could you think-?”

“I underestimated you, Yugi.” That stone-cold expression was back. “You are a much more consummate actor than I gave you credit for.”

Now he knew. _This_ was his punishment. “Please, my lord, _listen_ to me!”

Atem jerked around. “I will not be humiliated by some wildflower from the slums of Wetjeset-Hor,” he said. He gripped Yugi’s chin and turned it towards him, fingers tight around the bone. “How my people must have _laughed_. Enslaved by a boy with pretty eyes,” he mocked. “No more.” Atem thrust Yugi away.

Stung, Yugi stepped back into Atem’s space. “That’s not what I intended,” he said, earnestly. “It never was.”

“You tried to _save_ him!”

“Not him,” said Yugi. “Atem-”

“You have no right to call me that,” said Atem. “I am your _king_.”

Yugi took another step forward, until he was breathing Atem’s breath and all he could see was crimson. “You are my _god_ ,” he whispered, and reached up for Atem’s mouth.

With a broken sound, Atem crumbled. He took rough, open bites from Yugi’s mouth, his kiss stinging and raw. With a little, choked sound Yugi arched up. His lips parted instinctively and white-hot fire burst through him.

The other man pushed him away and Yugi stumbled. He tripped, falling back into the cushions. Atem’s bronze body shoved him deeper against the ground. Wiry limbs slid between his own and Yugi’s body responded, driving heat up his spine. “Atem,” he murmured, lips bruised, aching as his breath came more quickly.

Slender hands darted over Yugi’s body, stripping away his _shenti_ and ripping off the beautiful amethyst collar. The tiny pearls scattered over the ground. His breath hitched. “Please, Atem…” The man’s hands slid over his hips. Yugi shivered. He couldn’t help it. This was _Atem_. His hips tilted up into the touch.

Atem snarled. The Pyramid thumped down on the blanket next to him, rope pooling around Atem’s neck. Yugi’s head dropped back as he felt his body being moved. For a moment he thought Atem would push into him raw and he clenched his eyes shut against the pain. Instead of the agony, though, two slender fingers pushed into him, just barely wet. His body clenched around them, gripping and urging them deeper. As Atem spread his fingers wide a spasm of pain shot through him and he bit back a whimper. Yugi felt a warm, shivering pleasure flood across his body in its wake.

Quickly, Atem drew his hand away. Yugi dug his fingers into the ground. Desire coiled in his belly. “Please…” he said again, but this time he wasn’t sure what he was asking for.

Atem thrust into him in one rapid, sudden movement. Yugi cried out, arching almost off the ground. Pain spiked into him, melding swiftly with pleasure as the other man plunged savagely into his body. Shuddering, Yugi tightened his thighs around Atem’s waist and tried desperately to endure. Each deep thrust triggered a burst of ecstasy that crowded in on Yugi’s senses. Raw, primal lust drove him deeper. His body met Atem’s hips with movements as wild and rapid as the other man’s. Yugi panted, clawing desperately at Atem’s shoulders. The king swore and thrust into him savagely. Sharp, hot bliss erupted through Yugi in a shower of white. His vision darkened and Yugi went taught as pleasure wracked his body.

The shudders passed and Yugi slumped. Atem muttered a curse, breath hot in his ear. “Damn it,” whispered the man, just barely audible above the slick sound of his movements. “What have you _done_ to me?”

Yugi felt tears beading on his eyelashes. Atem _despised_ him.

It seemed to take forever, but finally Atem tensed. Yugi felt the wet heat of his release and his aching body twitched.

For a moment Atem’s body covered him, golden skin against his own and silken hair clinging to his jaw. Yugi closed his eyes, imprinting the feel of Atem’s body and the salt-spice scent of him in his memory forever. He wanted to wrap his arms around the man and never let go.

In the next moment it was over and Atem was pulling away. Yugi kept his eyes shut. His body felt bruised, broken, yet his heart was throbbing. _Odd_ , thought Yugi, his mind floating somewhere far above him. _Shouldn’t it be the other way around?_

A rustle of movement and Yugi felt a warm breeze cool his skin. He dared to open his eyes. The tent was empty. Sitting up, Yugi strained his ears. He could just make out the sound of a voice - Jou. Struggling up, Yugi wrapped his _shenti_ around his waist, tucking it haphazardly into place. He pushed the tent covering aside.

Atem had already mounted the chariot. His horses were stamping, tossing their heads. Close to the tent stood Jou and the general stopped when he saw Yugi. The scribe went to step forward. Pain shot up his spine and Yugi stumbled. Jou caught him around the waist. “With your permission, my lord,” said the general. “I humbly beg to stay as well. There are still rebels in the desert and I can-”

“No.”

Jou audibly ground his teeth. “My lord?”

“You will accompany me to Waset. Mahaad can take care of the rest here.”

Yugi felt Jou’s grip tighten. “Very well, _nsw bity_.”

“Jou…” said Yugi, eyes wide.

“It’s all right.” The warrior helped him stand. His cinnamon eyes were kind. “Go back inside. I’ll see you back in Waset,” and he ruffled a hand through Yugi’s hair. Reassured, the scribe nodded. He cast a quick look at Atem, but the king was bringing his chariot around, jaw set and hands clenched over the reins.

Taking a deep breath, Yugi turned his back and slipped into the tent. He crumpled down into the nest of blankets, fighting a wave of black despair.


	40. Chapter 40

Something touched his bare shoulder. “Yugi.” Mahaad’s voice was soft. Yugi felt the tight knot within him loosen slightly. He uncurled, brushing hair from his eyes. The magician knelt on the ground beside him. His hand was a light, reassuring weight on Yugi’s shoulder.

“M-Mahaad,” Yugi coughed.

The magician crossed his legs, placing his hands on his knees. His lilac eyes were cool and assessing. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine.” The scribe found he was unconsciously mirroring the other man’s posture. He kept his legs pressed together, wincing at the cold, slick feeling between his thighs.

“Tell me what happened,” said Mahaad. His expression was kind. “When did you leave the Great House?”

Yugi twined his fingers together. Mahaad sat silently and waited. Yugi drew strength from his presence. “We left after dusk, I think.” Curiously, the memory of the journey had faded. It was the coarseness of Duat’s mane that he remembered, the long column of Atem’s throat as he left him sleeping.

“We?” asked Mahaad.

“Ryou and I. My slave,” he added and the magician nodded.

“And you took the pyramid from Set’s chambers?”

“Y-yes.” He swallowed. “Jou - I thought that Atem could get it back. I thought - I thought if I took the pyramid, gave them what they wanted…” He shook his head. “It was stupid,” he sighed.

“It wasn’t stupid,” said Mahaad. “You had good intentions. You took the path you thought was right.”

“But Atem-”

“He will see reason,” replied Mahaad. “Just give him time.”

“I don’t know. He was… he was very angry.” Yugi shivered.

“The king does not trust easily,” said Mahaad. Yugi swallowed. _And I betrayed that trust._ “What happened when you took the pyramid?”

“I… drugged Atem and replaced the pyramid with Set’s replica.” He winced even as he said it. No wonder they thought he was a traitor. Not only had he stolen the Sennen Pyramid, he had _drugged the king_ to do it. “Then Ryou and I left Waset.” He recounted the rest of their journey, up to the point where he abandoned Ryou to the mercy of a tomb robber. Yugi paused then, drawing a deep breath against the pang that turned his stomach.

“We tracked you to the oasis,” said Mahaad. “Jou thinks the tomb robber was hiding in that area for some time. But when we arrived, they had disappeared, both of Atem’s horses with them.”

“Both?” echoed Yugi. Then Ryou hadn’t been killed. Had, at least, been fit enough to ride. Yugi felt tension unwind from his shoulder blades. Ryou was all right. “The rebels found us and I…” he gestured to the place where the pyramid had hung, a constant pressure on the nape of his neck. “So they took me back with them, to Yaqarum’s camp.”

“He recognised you?”

“Yes.” Yugi lifted a shoulder, thinking _How could he not?_ It had been foolish of him to think otherwise. He shuddered as he recalled the killing stroke. “What about Mesech?”

“Mesech?” The magician stilled. “He was here?”

“He was working with the _A’amu_.” A chill went through him. “You didn’t find him?”

Mahaad was frowning. “Not yet, although the bodies are still being dealt with. He is not among the prisoners.”

Yugi wiped his hands on his knees. His palms were sweating. “Maybe he was caught by the arrows,” he said, but his voice was hollow.

“I will notify Siamon to take over the man’s duties until a replacement can be found.” Mahaad stared for a moment at the far wall of the tent. Then he blinked and the expression disappeared. “We should go back to Waset. Can you travel, Yugi?”

_x_

Yugi was given new quarters, just big enough for a chair and a small bed, on the other side of the palace from Atem. The absence of Ryou, at least, was not as keen there, although Yugi felt it most strongly when he was by himself. He sent up a quick prayer to Bastet, Ryou’s favourite, to protect him from harm.

“Yugi,” barked the high priest.

The scribe snapped to attention. “Yes, my lord?” They were in a small hall between the East Court and the Coronation Hall. Yugi was Set’s servant, once again. Cobalt eyes glared at him and he gulped. The position was not an easy one.

“Take these,” said Set, gesturing to a stack of documents. “And pull out those which relate to the two Houses of Gold. Leave the granaries, for now. I will deal with them later.” He turned back to the _imi-ra per hedj_ , conversing in a low voice.

Yugi bent to his task, working diligently and in silence. It was an hour or so later when he finished and the stack of papyrus and wax tablets had diminished. Immediately he dove back into the first pile, unasked, searching for anything that referred to the two granaries. The work required him to focus and didn’t allow him the dreaded luxury of thinking. 

“Slow down.” Set stood by his side. “I have plenty of other things for you to do,” he added, but his voice was less gruff. The high priest grabbed a tablet and returned to the other side of the hall.

Under his feet, the floor was cracked, edges worn away. Yugi wiped a drop of sweat from his brow. Drowsy afternoon heat pushed at him, trapped between the skeletal lotus pillars that circled the room. It sapped away his strength.

“Yugi?” Jou crossed his arms and leant back against the stone. He cracked a grin at the scribe. “He isn’t working you too hard, is he?” 

Yugi managed a smile. “No.” Nothing close to what he deserved. The high priest threw a glance at them. Blue eyes narrowed at Jou and Set turned his back on them. The general snorted. “Did something happen?” asked Yugi, tilting his head towards the other man.

Jou cast a glance at the high priest, who seemed to be studiously ignoring them. “Set’s kind of angry at me.”

“What?” asked Yugi, startled. “Why?”

“He thinks I had something to do with you stealing the Pyramid.” He said it matter-of-factly, as though theft of the king’s most prized possession was so easily forgiven.

“But-” Yugi stopped, turning to face Jou. “But you _didn’t_ , he can’t think-”

“Hey, don’t worry.” Jou flicked his ear and Yugi jerked away, frowning. “I’ll make him see sense. He’s as much annoyed at himself as he is me.” The soldier winked at him.

Yugi glanced again at Set. “Well,” he said. “If you say so. Are you sure?”

“Oh, definitely. He can never stay angry at me for long. Although I-” Jou stopped. His jaw tensed, muscle ticking at the corner of his mouth. Yugi turned his head and saw why. The king had entered the room.

 _Atem_. His heart leaped into his throat like a wild thing. With difficulty, Yugi swallowed it down. An ache shot through him, chased by a sharp stab somewhere in the region of his heart. Atem’s presence was a tangible warmth on his skin. The king strode on, gaze skimming straight past him. Nausea curled in his stomach. Yugi grit his teeth and looked away. _He does not want me_. Yugi felt a dull agony at the thought. He’d been fully prepared for death when he took the pyramid. When Atem faced him again in the tent, he thought he’d be executed. But this, being able to see Atem and never be close to him again - perhaps this was worse.

He took a quick step forward, yanking at one papyrus and unrolling it. It was a report on the king’s archives; an inventory of some kind. He put it aside. “Yugi,” said Jou. “If you had rather go home, back to Wetjeset-Hor, I could always…”

“I should get back to work.” He tried to disguise the sudden breathlessness he felt. He wouldn’t leave Waset. _Couldn’t._

“Well, I’ll see if Set needs anything for the next _Wep-renpet_.” Jou moved away. “Let me know, though, Yugi. If you change your mind.”

Face averted, Yugi just managed a nod. Maybe he should think about leaving, about going back home. Perhaps he _should_ , but it was not the thing that his mind turned to later that night, when he lay, alone, in his darkened room.


	41. Chapter 41

Set stood bent over the table, forehead creased. It was silent in the high priest’s quarters, broken only by the rustle of linen when Set moved. Yugi sighed. The weight of his head was driving pain into his thigh, where his elbow rested, but he couldn’t muster the energy to move. Set rose hours before dawn, far earlier than Atem ever had. He yawned.

Ahead of him stretched another long, boring day. Set didn’t like to leave everything to Siamon, it seemed, whose eyes were starting to blur in their old age. The high priest always had something for Yugi to do, which usually lasted from dawn until dusk. He saw little of anyone, except Set and Jou. Even Mahaad was absent. Perhaps this is my punishment, he mused. _They’ll keep me here, in the Great House, but they won’t let me see anyone or do anything. I’ll be Set’s servant for the rest of my life._

“Yugi.”

_And I’ll never see…_ He had only crossed paths with Atem that once, in the last few days since they had returned from the Red Land. The man had ignored Yugi.

“Yugi.”

His heart sank a little at the thought. The palace seemed somehow bleaker without the king’s compelling presence. Desolate.

“This is ridiculous,” snapped Set and he jumped.

“Wh-what?”

“I’m sick to death of you.” The high priest was glaring at him. “You just sit there, _moping_. I have had _enough_.”

“Enough?” echoed Yugi, baffled. “What are you talking about?”

“Take this to the king’s quarters,” he said, plucking a thick papyrus scroll from the table. “And then find Merwt’i. Don’t come back until you have found him. Better yet, do not come back _at all_ today.” He muttered something that sounded like an oath.

_I am the last person Atem wants to see._ “But-”

“I do not want to hear it. Go, now.” Set’s kohl-lined eyebrows lowered and Yugi took the scroll from him quickly. The rough edges of the papyrus trembled a little and he tightened his grip.

“What is it?” Maybe he could hand it to one of the other servants, have them deliver it instead.

“It is _highly_ important information. For the king’s eyes only.” Set stared him down. “You will deliver it _yourself_ , Yugi.”

“As you wish,” he murmured, throat tight. The thought of seeing Atem again filled him with a tense, shivery feeling. He bowed to Set and crept out from under his gaze.

The path to the King’s House was long and Yugi’s stomach began to clench with nerves before he was even halfway there. He held the papyrus in front of him, gripping it with both hands. The walls blurred past, granite and gold in the light of torches, dotted at intervals along the stone. There were still two soldiers standing outside Atem’s rooms. Yugi didn’t know why he was surprised when he saw them. These ones were different; new, perhaps. They let him through.

Raw silk and spice. Yugi stopped, inhaling the scent of Atem’s quarters - of _Atem_ \- deep into his lungs. He ducked past the antechamber and stopped short. Atem was sitting cross-legged on the bed. One of Nefer’s striped kittens sprawled in his lap, little soft belly stretched over the king’s calves. Atem looked up as he entered and froze. His fingers were tangled in the kitten’s fur. Involuntarily, Yugi’s lips curled up into a smile. Atem’s chest rose and fell as he took a deep breath. “If you mention this to anyone…” he warned.

“I won’t,” replied Yugi. He tried to bite the smile away, but it wasn’t working. The kitten rolled and thudded onto the bed. It scrambled up, blue eyes wide, then stalked away, tiny tail held high and nose in the air. A chuckle escaped him and his eyes met Atem’s, read the answering smile there. His tongue darted out to wet his lips. The smile fell from Atem’s face. Flushing, the scribe dropped his eyes. “Set asked me to bring you this,” he said. An uncomfortable heat was creeping up his spine. He could feel Atem’s gaze on the side of his face. Yugi placed the scroll on a stool beside the bed.

“Yugi…”

He waited, holding his breath, but the man fell silent. “If there’s nothing else you require, Majesty…?” he asked after a moment, not quite able to keep the hope from his voice. Nothing. Swallowing, Yugi turned away. His eye were hot.

Hands settled on his hips. “Stop.” A weight on his back, between his shoulder blades. Atem’s voice was muffled. “Forgive me.”

Something inside him was breaking. “There is nothing to forgive,” Yugi whispered.

Atem’s grip tightened. “You can’t… You cannot say that so easily. What I did to you…”

Slender, bronze fingers curled around the material of his _shenti_. Yugi placed his own, paler hands over them. “Hush,” he murmured. The air pressed close around them. 

“I never let you explain,” he said, in a voice that sounded as though it had been dragged through the lapis mines. “I couldn’t bear to hear it. I thought that-” Atem stopped.

“It was never Yaqarum. _Never_. No one…” Yugi took a shaky breath. “No one ever touched me before you.”

Atem swore. The silken strands of his hair brushed the nape of Yugi’s neck. Yugi stared down at their entwined fingers, bronze and moon-pale skin. “I never meant to,” said Atem raggedly. “I couldn’t stop myself. I wanted you, from that moment in Nekhen, when you were covered in dirt and didn’t have the sense not to look me in the eye. You were the bravest, sweetest thing that I had ever seen.

“And I have done nothing but hurt you.”

“That’s not true,” said Yugi, desperately.

Atem didn’t seem to hear him. “I threw everything I had at you. You never once - you never broke. And I thought… I trusted you.”

Yugi pressed his eyes shut. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered. “I only wanted to help. Those assassins came and I… I couldn’t stand that you might get hurt.”

“Why?” asked Atem.

“Because. I…” His throat closed up and Yugi shook his head.

“Tell me, Yugi. Please.”

Why was it so hard to say? “Because…” The fragile, terrifying emotion cresting inside him felt both simple and incredibly complex. Yugi didn’t know how to articulate it, all of it. So he told the truth. “Because my soul would die without you.”

“You must feel that way. I am your king,” Atem replied, but his hands tightened.

“No,” said Yugi at once. “I mean; yes, you are, but - but that isn’t why. If the king was someone else, not you… I don’t _care_ that you’re king.” He meant it, too, with all that he was.

Atem let him go. Yugi closed his eyes, wilting. “Come to me tomorrow. At the lake,” said Atem, softly.

Breath hitching, Yugi turned swiftly to face him. The king’s expression was guarded, but Yugi thought he saw something there, something that made him ache inside. “When?” he asked.

“At dawn.” Atem sat back on his heels. Long lashes swept down, shielding whatever emotion he was feeling.

“Yes,” whispered Yugi. “I will. I promise.” He left dazed, focusing on placing one foot in front of the other and smiling wide enough to crack his face. _Atem doesn’t… Atem still wants…_

_I have to find Merwt’i_ , he thought, quelling the urge to just stop and curl over with delight. Set would still be annoyed if Yugi didn’t complete his task. Then he realised that he had no idea where the other servant could be. Frowning, Yugi turned down a corridor into another part of the palace. _I’ll have to search the servant’s quarters, then the kitchens. He might be in the gardens._

Yugi moved through the palace, walking away from Atem’s quarters. Every step pulled at him, like a length of cord was wrapped around his ka. He stopped in a small room lined with columns. On one of the walls was a mural of the king’s father. He was near the Shadow Room. 

Yugi stiffened, muscles turning to granite. _Was that…?_ Silence. _Odd, I thought I heard…_ Something was urging him forward, towards the dark corridor that led deep under the palace. The home of the monsters Atem ruled. Pressure on the nape of his neck. It was the same feeling that usually preceded one of his… visions. Cautiously, Yugi moved forward.

The torches had burnt out and Yugi felt his way gingerly down the stairs. _Someone should have re-lit these._ The place was silent. His foot slipped. Yugi grunted and caught himself against the wall. Light spilled from the Shadow Room at the foot of the stairs. He hastened towards it, pausing on the threshold.

Dark liquid pooled at the base of the stairs. It shone crimson where the light caught it. Yugi pressed his fist to his mouth, stumbling away. There was a body on the floor, another servant. His throat was cut. _Gods. What is this?_

“I’m sorry!” He stilled. On the dais stood Merwt’i, clawing at the grip of a tall, dark-haired man. “I told you everything I know! I didn’t think Atem would go after him!”

“Mesech,” whispered Yugi. The sorcerer whirled. “What are you doing here?”

“Yugi-” Growling, Mesech yanked on the boy’s braided hair. Merwt’i flinched, falling silent.

“Yugi.” Blood stained the sorcerer’s hands. “I have been waiting for you.”

“Wh-what do you mean?”

Shadows curled over the floor toward him. “I’ve been calling you for hours. It can only be that damned Pyramid dulling your senses.” One touched his foot and a chill shook his body. Gagging, Yugi stepped away.

“Yugi!” shouted Merwt’i, pale eyes wide. “ _Run_ , Yugi!”

“Enough!” Mesech jerked his arm. A knife flashed in his hands. Merwt’i gurgled. Red opened across his throat and flowed down his chest. Yugi choked. The servant dropped to the floor. His legs spasmed, then fell still.

“Why are you doing this?” cried Yugi.

“Silence,” spat Mesech. He reached out, fingers spread wide. “I _will_ have your _ka_ , Seer.” Green-black strands burst from his hand. They hurtled towards Yugi.

_Atem!_ he thought, shrieking the name in his mind like a prayer. Two of the threads wrapped around his arms. They dragged him across the floor, to Mesech’s side. Yugi skidded through blood. Merwt’i’s eyes were wide and blank.

“I don’t understand,” he said hoarsely, with some dim idea that he should stall the man, keep him talking. “How will this help you?” Back in the desert, he had ranted about _izfet_ and the Shadow Realm. Chaos was the god this man worshipped. He knew the future… _Atem!_ he thought again with a sudden shock. He had _forgotten_ , how could he have forgotten?

Long fingers stroked through his hair. Yugi forced himself to remain still. “A Seer’s soul is among the purest. I will harvest your ka and use it as the catalyst to break open the Shadow Realm.”

Yugi struggled as his bonds tightened. “That will destroy Kemet,” he gasped. Condemned souls would flood the world, killing everything in their path. “You won’t survive it.”

“The Pyramid will give me the power to control it.”

_The Pyramid? That’s why?_ “But you don’t have the Pyramid anymore.” Yugi whimpered as another tendril crept over his stomach.

Mesech smiled. “We will see.”

“Atem will do whatever it takes to stop you,” he whispered.

“You forget, Yugi. I have already seen his destiny and it is far shorter than my own.” Yugi shut his eyes. _Anubis_ , he prayed. _Show mercy on my heart and guide me to the land of the blessed dead._

“Yugi!”

His eyes flew open. “Atem!”

The king stood at the entrance to the room. His hair was dishevelled and he was breathing heavily. His eyes fell on the dark strands that encircled Yugi’s wrists and chest and he snarled. “Release him, Mesech!” The pyramid hung from his neck, swathed in darkness. It was stronger than Yugi had ever seen it.

“That is not possible,” replied Mesech. His dark eyes mocked the king.

“What do you want?” snapped Atem.

“Don’t!” shouted Yugi. “ _Go_ , Atem, please!”

The sorcerer tilted his head. “What would you give me?”

“Anything,” said Atem. “Name it.” 

“No.” Yugi sagged in the shadows’ grip. _Why won’t he run?_

Greed glowed in Mesech’s eyes. “The Pyramid. Give it to me.”

“Only if you let him go.” A dark olive curl touched Yugi’s mouth and he recoiled. He shook his head at Atem rapidly but the man was not looking at him. “ _Now_ , Mesech.”

“Very well.” Green-black strands loosened and fell away. “The Pyramid for the release of this boy’s _ka_.”

Yugi staggered forward. Atem yanked the pyramid from his neck and tossed it onto the ground. At once a shadowy tendril grabbed it and dragged it across the floor. Yugi took a few unsteady steps. That crimson gaze fixed on his face. Atem twitched and stretched out his hand, lips pressed tightly together. Yugi reached for him.

Something seized him around the waist and snatched him back. Yugi’s arms snapped back from where they’d been, a hair’s breadth from Atem’s fingers. His ears rang and he heard Atem’s voice as if from a distance. “ _No_! Mesech, you gave your _word_!”

Laughter. “I promised you his _ka, per-a’a_. I said nothing about his life.”

Shadows whipped up around him. One closed around his throat; tightened. A stifled noise escaped him. “Mesech!” screamed Atem. “I will condemn your soul to eternal damnation!”

“You forget yourself, Atem. I have the Pyramid, now.”

_Please, Atem_ , thought Yugi, though the edges of his vision were growing black. _Go. Run._

“I do not need a block of gold to kill you, sorcerer! _Nesh’i ka’k m izfet_!”

A blade of light speared through his vision with a shaft of pain. The darkness flooded over his eyes and Yugi yielded to it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eheh.
> 
> Crawls away to hide.


	42. Chapter 42

_Violet against black. High, tortured screams that echo in his ears. Yugi cringes._

_Heavy gold in his cupped hands. It fractures, splits into a hundred pieces and cascades through his fingers._

_Stairs rise up through the shadows, up and down and sideways. Half-hidden doors set into stone, cold under his feet._

_Dark, liquid shadows in deeper darkness. Tall granite doors. Despair. Loss so strong it hurts. A shaft of light tears them open and they crumble away into nothing. Into darkness._

Yugi opened his eyes. The mist of his dream seeped away, expelled by dancing firelight. _Where…?_ Soft material weighed him down. The light flickered over bright stone murals. The king’s quarters. He shifted and felt something around his right hand. Yugi turned his head.

_Atem?_ The king was bent over, head pillowed on the bed - _Atem’s bed_ , he realised - both of his hands clasping Yugi’s tightly. Tenderness swept through him. Yugi curled his fingers. Instantly the man jerked awake. “Yugi.” He sat up, leaning forward. “How do you feel?” His eyes searched Yugi’s face. “Are you injured? Do you hurt at all?”

“I…” There was an ache at the back of his head. Faint, though. “Not really.” _What am I doing here?_ He had been below the palace, in the Shadow Room… “Mesech!” he cried, jolting upright. “Where is he? What happened?”

“Do not move,” said Atem. His hands fluttered over Yugi’s shoulders, pressing him down then smoothing over his neck, tracing his jaw. “It is done. He’s gone.” Atem blinked and pulled his hands away.

Bemused, Yugi scooted back, tucking his legs underneath him. “I don’t understand.” The king’s quarters were dimly lit and quiet. Warm breezes drifted in through the balcony, carrying the scent of jasmine. “What happened? How did I get here?”

“Mesech tried to kill you,” said Atem, his voice a growl. “I ripped his soul from his body and cast it into the Shadow Realm. But I thought…” Tanned fingers touched his own, tentative. Yugi moved into the touch and gripped Atem’s hand, entwining their fingers together. Warmth spread up his arm into his body. “You have been sleeping for two days. None of my priests - nothing could touch you.”

“I thought he was going to kill you,” confessed Yugi. “He wanted the Pyramid.” _The Pyramid!_ “Wait - the Pyramid, did he…?”

Atem was shaking his head. “I retrieved it from his body.” He nodded and Yugi saw the golden item on the other side of the room. “What were you doing down there?”

“I was looking for Merwt’i,” he said, wincing at the memory. _All that blood…_ “Then… I don’t know. I thought I heard something. Mesech said he had been calling me. He said I was a Seer?”

“A Seer…” The man frowned. “It is possible you have some kind of awareness. Magic, perhaps, like Mana.”

“I see things,” he said, hesitantly. “And sometimes – sometimes they come true.”

Atem reared back. “You have Isis’ power. You could wield the necklace, perhaps, and see even further. I will speak to Mahaad.”

Yugi grimaced. He wasn’t sure that he _wanted_ to know more. The things he saw… “Atem,” he said.

The king’s hand tightened around his. “What is it, Yugi?”

Yugi tamped down a surge of pleasure at the sound of his name from Atem’s lips . “I saw… Mesech said that he knew your future.” Half-forgotten fear rushed through him. “But it-”

“Do not.” Atem held up his hand, touching the pads of his fingers to Yugi’s mouth. “No one should know their own destiny.”

“But what if-?”

“No.” Atem cupped his face. “It is for the gods to decide, not us.” Swallowing, Yugi nodded. He leant into Atem’s hand and resolved to do whatever he could to prevent the future that he and Mesech had both seen. Atem rested his forehead against Yugi’s. Those deep crimson eyes stared into his own. “Stay with me?” the man whispered.

For a moment Yugi couldn’t speak. Something had taken hold of his heart and squeezed. “Always,” he breathed. “From this life into the next.”

He knew it as clearly as he felt their breaths mingling. Even when his time in Kemet was done and he became an _akh_ in the next world, he would stay forever by Atem’s side.

Their souls would be joined for all eternity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the shortness of the epilogue! I regret nothing haha.
> 
> Thank you all for the kudos and your wonderful, amazing comments. I read and squeed over all of them. It has been a real pleasure :D
> 
> Love you all and see you soon.
> 
> lasae


	43. Historical Notes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These are my notes on the historical data and the research that went into this fic. They explain a few things, hopefully.
> 
> It was a necessary action, to write this story. I like to write things that haven’t been done before, but, stepping into the Yugioh fandom, this is sometimes hard. ^^ When I glanced about under the Egyptian AU flag, I saw that it would be much harder, but it‘s been my dream to write a Yugioh Egyptian AU ever since the references turned up in canon. I know that I have been seriously influenced by the novel Song of the Nile (Harlequin gold lol), but I tried my very best to stay away from clichés! Enjoy...

Chronologically, I’m placing Atem and his father in the eighteenth dynasty, circa. 1400 after Thutmose III but before Akhenaten. Reasons: Horses weren’t introduced in Egypt until after the 2 nd Intermediate Period (bloody Hyksos), so, to stick as close to the canon as possible, it has to be after this time, in the New Kingdom. I think Atem’s reign would lead nicely into the Amarna period…

 

Seasons: There are three seasons in the Egyptian year. _Akhet_ , the Flood, _Peret_ , the Growing, and _Shemu_ , the Harvest.

 

_Wep-renpet:_ new year’s celebration.

 

Thebes: The City ( _niwt_ ). The Southern City ( _niwt-rst_ ). Waset. Waset is the city Thebes, capital of Egypt during the New Kingdom, where I set my stage. Wetjeset-Hor is Edfu.

 

Priests: _wab_ , _kheri-heb_ , _hm, sab_. Lector priests wore sashes across their chests, and _sem_ priests wore leopard or panther skins (real or imitation) - these are the ones that people are probably most familiar with.

 

_Sepat_ : a nome. Kemet consisted of various nomes/districts, each of which had their own titled official.

 

Pharaoh: hebrew word from _pr-eA_.  not documented until letter to Akhenaten (as addressing king)

                but king is an English word, so this may or may not pop up.

 

_Per-a’_ _ah_ was first documented as a title in a letter to Akhenaton - also eighteenth dynasty, not long after the period where this story is set - so I’m using it sporadically, assuming that it slowly became part of spoken speech at around this time.

 

Nsw bity: King of Upper and Lower Egypt. The second is just a mouthful, so where necessary I’ve used this term.

 

Set’s staff: _Egypt and the Egyptians:_ Nebwenenef states he was given a gold staff and two gold rings when he became the first priest of Amun, so I’m using that as the iconography for the High Priest of Amun, as information about their particular garments etc. is sparse.

 

_Djeheuty:_ Thoth. God of the scribes.

 

The king’s name: Pharaoh’s had five great names; nomen (birth name), prenomen (throne name), Horus name, the Nebti/Two Ladies name, and the Golden Horus:

 

Prenomen: King of _Ta-Shemau_ and _Ta-Mehu_ (also _nsw bity_ ) Akhenre.

Nomen: Son of Ra, Atemu

Horus-name: Mery-n-Kheprer (Beloved of Kheprer)

Two Ladies: _Sekhentuma_ _’_ _at_ (He who promotes Ma’at)

Golden Horus: Djeru-kheftiu-ef (He who smites his enemies)

 

Kushite: of Kush (Nubia). - I think.

 

Swenet: southern-most, frontier town.

 

Tekhen: an obelisk.

 

Senet: The rules of _senet_ are actually unknown - what we have is an educated guess, which I’m going to stick to. They’re the rules I’m familiar with.

 

Set’s father: Set believes that his father died in battle, it’s not until after Bakura draws out the evil in his father and the Kisara event that he finds out the truth. Blue Lotus is set before Diabound and before Aknadin becomes evil, so here Set doesn’t yet realise who his father is.

 

_Ipet-iswt:_ The most sacred of places. Karnak temple.

 

Silk: I am stretching it a bit with the silk thing. It wasn’t actually prevalent in Egypt until much later than the 18th dynasty, but it melds nicely with my themes… so Shh! ^^

 

Nekhen: Hieraconpolis.

 

_hm netjer tepy en Amun:_ high/first priest of Amun

 

Royal Qenbet: the judicial court, headed by the pharaoh. A Qenbet is the same, but headed by a vizier.

 

Nemes headdress: I usually see the pharaoh wearing a crown or the _nemes_ headdress, not both together, and the white crown was used when dealing with only Upper Egypt - here Atemu is concerned only with Nekhen, not Lower Egypt.

 

Sandal Bearer: There aren’t really many details about Sandal Bearers and their duties, so I’m incorporating the role of cup bearer, and just treating them like a general servant/valet.

 

_Ta-dehent:_ the mountain above the Valley of the kings.

 

_Ta-sekhet-ma’at_ -Literally, The Great Field: the royal necropolis in the Valley of the Kings west of the Nile. The kings of the eighteenth dynasty (save for Akhenaten) were buried here:

 

Sopdet: the evening star. When it rose early it was time for the new year.

 

Old Language: Old Egyptian is slightly different to Middle Egyptian (New kingdom language), so I decided to try and use that difference to give the ceremony a little more flavour.

 

Atemu/Atem: Atem is another rendition for the god Atum. Sometimes the labial glide (quail chick hieroglyph) at the end of the word drops off of words and I will occasionally do this with Atemu’s name in speech (usually with Jou, given that he’s, you know, _Jou_ ). I kept seeing both Atemu and Atem in fanon, and it confused me quite a lot, so I started with Atemu. If I get around to editing, I'll change to Atem.

 

The four parts of the world.

 

Zau: Sais. Town on the western Nile Delta.

 

Yunu - Heliopolis. Atum was a god of this city.

 

_Sekhemti_ crown: the double crown of ancient Egypt, both white and red to represent upper and lower Egypt.

 

_A’amu_ : Asiatics basically.

 

Men-nefer: Memphis, the white-walled city.

 

_Iw shedi khaty’_ _k kekkw_ : Darkness take your heart!

 

_nesh’_ _i ka’_ _k m izfet:_ I cast your soul into chaos!


End file.
